


The Life We Live

by Chereche



Category: Glee
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Punishment, Romance, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chereche/pseuds/Chereche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories surrounding Klaine in a d/s relationship. Chapter 1: Kurt has been neglecting himself for some time, and it's up to Blaine to set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eating

Blaine knew that something was wrong the moment that he saw Kurt fast asleep on the bed in his day clothes. The only thing he had managed to do was thumb off his shoes – shoes that seemed to have been blindly thrown in the general vicinity of the closet. Blaine had skipped out on his study group in order to get home before his fiancé; but the two hour advantage had been rendered useless. Not only had Kurt beat him home, he was in a deep slumber that Blaine was loathing waking him from. There would be time for conversation later, he supposed.

Kurt had been acting strangely over the past few days – he moved from anger to silence to a churlishness that left Blaine wanting to give him a good shake more than once recently. There was a lot he was willing to tolerate – they accepted a lot from each other during their off-days – but as time passed, Blaine realised that what was happening to Kurt went well beyond his usual stresses from work and school. Something was causing him to act out, and Blaine had hoped to use this afternoon to sort his beautiful fiancé out.

It had started off small, a snap here, a bit of delinquency there, but then it started escalating. Two nights ago, Blaine had ended their movie night prematurely because Kurt simply could not sit still. He fidgeted, made small sounds and sighed continuously until Blaine thought it better for them to simply retire early to their bedroom. Kurt had settled after a few minutes in his arms, and though they had talked about nothing of value, Blaine could sense calm from his fiancé in the seconds before he succumbed to sleep in his arms. That calm had not lasted long though. Just yesterday, he had refused to do his share of the chores, and when he started, he had complained loudly, banging dishes and sweeping half-heartedly until Blaine had shot him *that* look – the one that instantly brought him to heel. At that moment it became fairly obvious to Blaine that Kurt was unconsciously acting out against him out of a sense of guilt. He was hiding something him and stressing himself out trying to deal with the matter on his own. He didn’t know how to ask for help, and so had resorted to behaviours he hoped would force Blaine’s hand so to speak.

But caving to that silent plea for help wasn’t in the cards – at least not yet. Blaine wanted to give Kurt a chance to prove that he had improved since their last discussion, to show that he had grown. It was remarkable the things they had learnt about themselves after they had adopted aspects of the D/S lifestyle into their everyday routines. Their stumbling into that club during their freshman year of college had been entirely accidental, but what had started off as horror, had quickly moved into curiosity and experimentation. Six months after that had saw them fully integrate aspects of it; their relationship had only strengthened since.

Contemplating on the times they had shared together over the past five years, Blaine allowed his hand to run gently along Kurt’s side as he studied him. Even in his sleep there was a slight furrow to his brow that Blaine could not resist trying to kiss away. Kurt didn’t react though, and so, deciding that it was best to let him sleep, Blaine left him with a second kiss. Perhaps he had misunderstood, Blaine thought as he left the room. Maybe Kurt was simply coming down with a cold and was acting strangely as a result of denying it. It would not be the first time that had happened.

Blaine spent the next few hours flitting about the apartment, dealing with the clutter that inevitably accumulated during the week. He contemplated cooking, but after seeing last night’s leftovers untouched, he settled for baking a batch of cookies instead. With nothing left to do, he settled down on the couch, idly flicking through channels. He would give Kurt thirty more minutes to sleep, he decided eventually. He had no idea what time his love had first settled down for his nap, but if he let him sleep much longer than that, he would be up for the entire night, and that was certainly something he did not want. Three minutes shy of that half an hour Blaine heard the faint sounds of Kurt stumbling out of the bed. A toilet flushed not too long after that, and Blaine had just enough time to rest the remote back on the table before Kurt was besides him, adorably dishevelled as he plopped down besides him on the couch, tugging at his arm with a pout until, with a small laugh, Blaine relented and allowed Kurt to settle comfortably underneath his arm. He kissed his forehead tenderly, enjoying the warmth of his skin.

Kurt was relaxed against him for several minutes, content to nuzzle his neck ever so often, and purr whenever Blaine’s idly roaming hand found a particularly sensitive spot. And then it began, the random shifting, and finger nail biting until Blaine had no choice but to reach over and gently smack his hand away before he damaged his cuticles.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he asked, careful to keep his tone only mildly curious.

“Nothing,” Kurt said.

Blaine didn’t press him. There was more than one ways to peel an orange after all. He let him be until the show reached a next commercial before saying idly, “You had a big lunch hmm? All of yesterday’s leftovers are still there.”

They tended to cook two days worth of food at a time during the week. It helped lesson the work load per day, and it gave them a chance to bond and chat while micromanaging a stove full of pots.

“I did,” Kurt said softly. “There was a lunch meeting I had to sit in on. They served sushi and you know how that fills me up.”

Blaine chuckled at that. “It sure does.” It never failed to amuse him how Kurt could go through a gallon of ice-cream if the opportunity presented itself, but could barely finish an entire sushi roll alone.

Kurt did not speak further, and so Blaine refocused on the television, while remaining alert as Kurt’s tenseness had not dissipated. Gradually he felt it, a shaking against his side that could not be attributed to Kurt jostling his foot restlessly. Startled, Blaine turned towards him to find Kurt’s brows drawn and his breath, though near silent, hitching ever so often.

“Kurt?” he said in alarm, trying to turn him to face him. He refused, shaking his head roughly as he abruptly pulled his legs up so he could curl in on himself. His prickly little hedgehog, Blaine thought sadly before he pulled his body against him, holding his balled form as close as was physically possible. How long they stayed like that, Blaine didn’t know. He rocked them back and forth, humming lightly, wondering just what was wrong with his fiancé, and how he could make it all better.

Eventually Kurt calmed enough that he unfurled slightly, enough that Blaine could see the tear tracks running down his face. He looked so small and vulnerable at that moment that it tore at Blaine’s heart.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded. “I can’t help you if you don’t.”

“You’ll be mad,” Kurt whispered, reaching out to grasp at Blaine’s shirt.

“I may be,” Blaine agreed, “but I will love you regardless. Now tell me so that we can fix this, whatever it is.”

Kurt nipped at his lip, processing that for a moment before nodding. “I lied to you,” he finally said in a tone that was almost broken.

“About?” he replied carefully, keeping his tone neutral. It wouldn’t do to upset him more than he already was, especially now that he was willing to talk.  

“I didn’t eat lunch.”

To an outsider that would have been a minor issue, but at that moment a pool of dread settled in Blaine’s stomach. Kurt had picked up a few eccentric habits upon reaching New York, and this was the worst of them. Sometimes, Kurt simply avoided eating, deeming it unimportant. It wasn’t an issue of vanity. He had long since overcome the psychological warfare Coach Sylvester had inflicted upon it. More than that, a last growth spurt had shot him up a few inches, and he had filled out nicely. He would forever retain a dance-like lithe to his figure, but he was, and would always be gorgeous.

Blaine barely restrained a shudder as he recalled the aftermath of Finn’s death. Overcoming that had been the hardest test on their relationship so far, and they were still, and probably for a while yet, be dealing with it. And yet, it wasn’t good for him to jump to conclusions, especially when he was not sure about the scope of the issue.

“I’ll need you to explain further sweetheart,” he bid.

Kurt though, needed almost a minute before he could obey. “I…last night. Remember you saw my lunch bowl in the fridge?”

“Yes,” Blaine answered, deciding to play along with it for now. As long as he got his answers, he would allow Kurt to express himself in whatever way he felt best. “You told me you felt for a salad instead and had that for lunch.”

“I didn’t feel for a salad,” Kurt admitted. “I just didn’t eat, but I felt bad for wasting food so I brought it back home.”

“Why?”

“I had an article to finish editing. It wasn’t worth stopping for lunch.”

“So that was your lie?” Blaine asked, seeking clarification.

“Not the only one sir,” Kurt told him. Blaine carefully noted the title that had slipped passed his fiancé’s lips, but made no comment on it. If it gave him the strength to continue, he would not protest against it. “You ate all of the leftovers last night. I lied when I told you I had already eaten my share.”

“And as you had portioned it away, I would not be able to tell the difference.”

“Yes sir.” Anticipating his question, Kurt continued. “I wanted to work on my Paper for Theatre II.”

“And did you have breakfast yesterday?” Blaine inquired picking up on the pattern. He always left before him on a Thursday due to an earlier class.

“No. I figured that I would just grab something on the go. I didn’t.”

“And today?” he inquired, resigned to the inevitable.

A broken sob escaped Kurt at that, leading Blaine to pull him back into his embrace for a few minutes more, giving him the strength to finish his admission.

“I didn’t eat today either. I didn’t eat that sandwich you gave me. I worked through lunch again, and I went to bed as soon as I got home.”

Blaine allowed him to fall silent then, using the time while Kurt cuddled into him to think. The last time his love had eaten was Wednesday at dinner. That would explain why he went to bed early today. He was running on empty. His weird behaviour though, could not be fully attributed to that. It had started much earlier. Blaine was convinced that his fast had a bit more to do than a hectic schedule, but that was not important right now, he decided. The most important thing for him to accomplish now was getting some sort of nutrition into his Kurt.

Decision made, he gently disengaged himself from Kurt and stood up. He looked down at him for a long moment, until game plan made, he reached down, grasping his shoulders firmly. He bent, kissing the top of his head tenderly for a moment before urging him to his feet.

“I love you,” he told him firmly. “We will get through this as we always do. Okay Kurt? I love you.”

“I love you too Blaine,” Kurt replied sincerely.

Blaine pulled Kurt into him for one long moment, whispering sweet endearments into his ear before he released him, indicating where he wanted him. Kurt obediently walked to the empty corner of the living room, whining softly though when Blaine brought over one of their wooden handled arm chairs to him. Blaine chose to ignore the sound. They both knew what the chair meant – Kurt would be there for a while. Blaine positioned the chair as pleased him before pointing down. Kurt sat, albeit reluctantly as Blaine, in a show of strength, spun both Kurt and the chair around until it faced the wall.

“You know the rules, sweetheart,” he reminded him softly, leaving him with a last kiss on top of his head.

Blaine rarely left him in the corner for more than a few minutes at a time. He usually never needed more than ten or fifteen minutes of introspection to reflect on whatever had led him to be in the corner in the first place. Blaine, however, needed him occupied while he made him a bland, yet filling dinner.

It took him about twenty minutes to have a pot bubbling away on the stove, and then, certain that it would not boil over before his return, he went about his other plans. Silently, he walked into the living room. Reassured that Kurt was indeed obeying him, he moved to their bedroom. They really had not acquired many implements – they preferred the more natural approach. Time though had taught them that many household items could be quite versatile. Besides, what he was doing was more token than anything; he was not doing anything more than simply making a point.

With that in mind, Blaine settled for looping three scarves around his neck as he returned to the kitchen. Finishing off the porridge with a bit of cinnamon for added flavour, he ladled out a reasonable bowlful. As he waited for it to cool sufficiently, he poured out a glass of juice, before adding a small bottle of water to the tray he was assembling. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he added a straw to the mix, put the porridge on it, before carrying the entire thing out to where his future husband was. Temporarily putting it aside, he pulled a foot stool so that he could be comfortable for the remainder of his plan.

He stood behind Kurt for a minute, mostly to give himself a minute to anchor his thoughts before he reached around the chair, hugging both it and Kurt.

“And how are we feeling?” he questioned softly, resting his chin on top of his head.

“That I shouldn’t have lied to you,” Kurt whispered sorrowfully.

“And?” he pressed.

“That I should have told you I wasn’t eating.”

That would do for now, Blaine decided. It would take more than twenty minutes of quiet reflection (Kurt despised the term ‘corner time’) for him to admit that not eating was his main transgression. And so, Blaine released and spun the chair around, barely restraining a sigh at Kurt’s look of misery. What he really wanted to do right about now was to pull him into his arms for a good cuddle. But there would be time for that later, he supposed, when they had gotten past this. For now though, he needed to continue to be firm.

“Hands please,” he bid gently.

Kurt misunderstood him, holding them up to him. Blaine took them, kissing each one tenderly in a show of affection before he guided them to the respective chair arms. Kurt remained passive as he looped a scarf around one, then the other hand, tying him firmly, and securely to the chair. Blaine paused then, fingering the third one around his neck thoughtfully, as he eyed Kurt’s throat. He ultimately decided against it. He would not deny him full movement this time. It wasn’t as if they were playing one of their games after all.

Decision made, he leaned back, taking in Kurt’s expression. Other than the fingers drumming steadily against the wooden handles, he seemed calm, if slightly interested in what Blaine was trying to accomplish. He would understand shortly, Blaine thought, fetching the tray before sitting on the footstool in front of him.

“Sir?” Kurt said softly then, eyeing the contents of it with some trepidation.

“No words for now sweetheart,” Blaine responded as he dipped a spoon into the creamy liquid. “Open up,” he added, as the spoon hovered before Kurt’s lips.

 Kurt’s eyes moved back and forth between Blaine and the spoon, before slowly, almost reluctantly, he parted his lips, allowing it entry. He swallowed slowly, his first bite in two days.

“Good boy,” Blaine whispered, and with it, the damn broke. Almost immediately after the words past his lips did the tears start trailing down Kurt’s cheeks.

Blaine chose not to openly acknowledge them, instead offering him bite after bite, pausing ever so often to give him sips of water or orange juice. He kept up his reassuring murmurs, urging Kurt on until half way through the bowl, Kurt became overwhelmed. He ducked his head, and the first of many sobs started escaping him. Blaine would not allow it though. As much as it hurt him to do it, it was important that he completely break down Kurt’s barriers. And so, Blaine lifted his chin with a hand, forcing him to meet his gaze, even through his tears. That caused his crying to increase. Blaine knew why. Kurt hated for his vulnerability to show. In their teenage years he had hid it behind witty and catty remarks. Breaking down his layers had not been an easy task.

Even after their first few months of being intimate, Blaine, despite his horny teenage state, had been well aware of the fact that Kurt had kept his guard up. Blaine was only allowed to have him in positions that allowed Kurt to hide his face, to bury his head into pillows or to bite on sheets to muffle the few cries of pleasure Blaine managed to wrangle out of him. One of the first things Blaine had done once they had begun their new lifestyle was to tie him face up on the bed and send him wild, ignoring his whimpers and pleas and attempts to turn away as he reached the height of his pleasure. Now, so much later, Kurt was considerably better at letting Blaine seeing him in his truest, most vulnerable form, but now, with tears flowing and the shame of his actions attacking him, Kurt would relish the opportunity to curl up into himself entirely if given the opportunity. And Blaine was determined to ensure that he would not receive that luxury.

Swamped with tears, Kurt’s eyes pleaded with him, but Blaine refused, doing nothing except dabbing at the rapidly flowing tears until Kurt had regained some of his composure. Blaine wisely chose not to comment on his breakdown, and only lifted the spoon to his lips again. Kurt ate docilely and consistently after that, only protesting once that he was full. Blaine pushed him a little further past that point before relenting, knowing that he had to bring him close to a regular food portion to stave off problems later on. And then, wisely, he turned Kurt back to the wall before heading back to the kitchen, giving them both a few minutes to regroup before they moved on to the next part of it.

oOoOoOoOo

 Neither of them chose to speak for a long while. After ten more minutes, Blaine had once again turned Kurt around, examining his closely. Satisfied with what he could discern from Kurt’s gaze, he had released him, kissing and massaging each wrist tenderly before, with a hand to the small of his back, leading him to their bedroom. Blaine was content to just lay there, spooned around Kurt while his hand rubbed gentle circles on his stomach, offering comfort. He knew without asking that Kurt had to be experiencing some level of discomfort, and he was doing his best to help ease him through it. Kurt said nothing, did nothing except to shift occasionally when Blaine’s hands roamed a little too far outside of the range he was comfortable with at the moment. His silence did not worry Blaine though, for Kurt was lax against him. For the first time in days, his fiancé was at peace, and he would not do anything to jar him out of that state.

Eventually though, Kurt twisted in his arms until they were facing each other. Slightly amused, Blaine allowed Kurt to tug and pull at him until he had him as he wanted, on his back with Kurt’s head against his chest. Taking his cue, Blaine switched his attentive caress to his back, quietly noting the abstract patterns Kurt was tracing on his body. He was working up to saying something, Blaine thought fondly, bending to kiss his head.

Just when Blaine was ready to give him a gentle nudge in the right direction, Kurt spoke, his voice soft and tentative. “Are you going to punish me?” he all but whispered.

“No,” Blaine answered immediately. “We talked about this the last time, remember? We agreed that it wasn’t right to punish you for something that is, to a certain extent, beyond your control. You need help Kurt, not a reminder about the rules we agreed to follow.”

“But still,” Kurt rebutted, lifting up slightly so that he could meet Blaine’s warm hazel gaze. “I spanked you after you recovered from your stomach flu last winter.”

“You spanked me because I refused to take my medication as I should have been doing. The only reason I hadn’t was because I didn’t like the taste and the way they made me drowsy. Remember?”

“Of course I do,” Kurt said gruffly, a shadow of annoyance colouring his tone.

Blaine knew that he was far from the best patient in the world. And looking back, even he could admit he had been a bit too ridiculous about the situation. He had rightfully deserved it when, the day he was fully back on his feet, Kurt had bent him over his knee and given him quite a good reason to be cooperative the next time he was ill. It was the beauty of their relationship, Blaine briefly acknowledged. They were not fixed in a dominant or submissive role. They switched, alternating as suited their needs. There were many times when Blaine himself had found himself biting his lip as Kurt’s aggravation washed over him, or else had writhed in pleasure, helpless to defend himself against Kurt’s whims. Whenever one of them needed reeling in, the other took over, restoring the equilibrium within their partner.

“And I guess,” Kurt allowed, “it isn’t the same thing.”

“Exactly Kurt,” Blaine praised. “I was stubborn, you just have an odd relationship with food sometimes,” he finished, re-wording the term ‘psychological issue’. Even now, having received five months worth of therapy, Kurt still hated having anything to do with psychologists or the field. “I’m not going to punish you for that. You’ll be on constant supervision this entire weekend, and we’re going to work out a game plan for the foreseeable future until I can trust you to be eating as you should, but I’m not going to punish you for this.”

Kurt dropped his head back down, undoubtedly processing Blaine’s words. “But the lying?” he inquired after a minute or two of more absentminded tracing.

“Are you trying to provoke me?” Blaine joked lightly. “I can stick you back in the corner for half an hour if it’s what you’re looking for.”

“No!” Kurt half-yelled, Blaine dissolving into laughter as a result. “I’m fine. Forget I mentioned anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” Blaine agreed, glad that his mostly empty threat had easily resolved the situation. “Now how about I go draw us up a nice hot bath, hmm? I think we could both use the relaxation.”

“Only if you use a bath bomb.”

“Of course Kurt, anything you want.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt finds himself in the Dominant role when Blaine's submissive side rises.

The best time of their summer days were the evenings, after Kurt had returned home from his internship and Blaine had put in enough work into the summer courses he had taken up, so that the moment he heard the click of the apartment door opening, he could put it aside. The evenings were theirs; all electronics were put aside until at least nine o clock. Instead, they took a few hours to relish each other, and this, their first summer in New York together, all on their own.

They had been idly cuddling in bed, talking about nothing of worth between sweet, lazy kisses. At one point, Kurt had even read a chapter aloud from their latest book while Blaine swirled idle patterns on his chest as he listened, occasionally chiming in with a quip or comment that earned him a chuckle or a gentle rap on the head depending.

Eventually though, Kurt jostled him, smiling tenderly at Blaine’s groan of protest as he reluctantly freed Kurt from his role as human pillow, shooting him a morose look when, instead of letting him roll over and continue dozing, Kurt poked at him until he sat up.

It was one of those days, Kurt thought as, with a gentle push, he sent Blaine off to clear his books from their small dining table while he headed to the kitchen to clear out the few dishes they had ignored.

Blaine was very malleable today, he mused, had been from that morning, when, with a shrug, he had dropped down onto his chair and looked at Kurt expectantly until he took the hint and pulled together breakfast without consulting him on his preference. The small smile on his lips when Kurt had told him to dig in should have been all the confirmation that he had needed, but then again, they were still new to this. Reading the signs was something they both still needed to work on.

But for now, he believed that he had things under control. As far as he could tell, Blaine wasn’t upset about anything. Indeed, Kurt had had to pull him down to the bed and wrap him up in his arms to end an impromptu jump-on-the-furniture session. So did Blaine just want to be gently dominated for a bit, or was this slowly escalating into him wanting to have a bit of…fun?

Kurt kept a speculative eye on him as he ambled into the kitchen, coming up to hug him and rub their noses together.

“What are you making me?” he asked.

Kurt pecked his nose briefly, even as he arched a brow at him. “ _We’re_ making chicken with mushrooms,” he corrected. “Go wash the mushrooms for me by the time,” he bid, chuckling when the slight frown on Blaine’s face faded instantly, and he cheerfully walked away.

Kurt was careful to keep in contact with him as they worked – a touch of a hand to his back as he passed him a kiss to his shoulder as he reached over him to grab an onion, or caressing his cheek in appreciation for Blaine’s foresight to start rendering some bacon. Blaine lapped the attention up, leaning into the small shows of affection, his demeanour increasingly relaxing. It wasn’t until he let out a slight whimper though when Kurt accidentally brushed up behind him that he had the answer to his question…and he knew that he could easily cater to it.

*

Everything was ready. The chicken was simmering in its mushroom and sauce bath in the oven for the next forty minutes, and the salad could wait for a while before the dressing needed to be added. That was why Kurt decided that now was the perfect time to test his theory, and Blaine, his sweet Blaine, was already unconsciously catering to him. He was reclining against the counter, sipping on one of those organic fizzy drinks he loved making. His eyes though were constantly on Kurt – Kurt was acutely aware of it. He knew Blaine and he knew that look - that lazy perusal of him as his eyes drifted across his figure, aptly displaced in comfortable yet fitted jeans and a sleeveless shirt that clearly depicted his blooming, hard-earned biceps that he knew Blaine loved to caress whenever the opportunity arose.

Kurt didn’t acknowledge the looks for a long while though, wiping down the counters while he crafted a plan in his mind, until, certain that he knew what it was he wanted to do and also felt secure enough to fall further into the role Blaine needed from him, Kurt acted. In one moment, he had moved from idly wiping a spot near to Blaine with a dry cloth. The next, Blaine’s cup was out of his hands and Kurt had his wrists captured firmly in an X formation above his head, as he stared down into Blaine’s rapidly widened eyes. Kurt forced his expression to be passive as he watched the emotions flitting through those golden orbs – surprise; curiosity and the beginnings of arousal.

Kurt pressed in closer, their breaths mingling as he forced a thigh between Blaine’s, a kernel of arousal lazily curling in his stomach when Blaine whimpered, a soft, yet appealing sound that had his lips curling into a snarl as he bypassed Blaine’s softly quivering lips in favour of attacking that tanned column of his neck.

“Kurt,” he breathed, a soft, drawn out mewl that had Kurt pressing tighter against him, his eyes briefly drifting close, as he breathed in his scent, took in the softness of his skin before he pulled back to lap at a spot on his neck before latching on firmly, sucking it until Blaine said his name again, this time with a groan as he shivered, his head lolling to the side in invitation for more that Kurt simply could not refuse. He teased and tormented him for long moments more, until he felt Blaine starting to rut ever so slightly against his thigh.

“Uh uh uh, sweetheart,” he chided, pulling back to look at him.

Blaine’s eyes were half-closed, and when Kurt used the free hand that had been idly running up and down Blaine’s torso to grip his chin and turn it back in his direction.

It took Blaine several moments to meet his heated gaze, and when he did, his eyes were slightly dilated in a way that told Kurt that yes, Blaine was slowly slipping further into his submission. In a minor test, Kurt flexed his hand tighter against Blaine’s wrists, and, as he half expected, Blaine’s eyes darkened further in both arousal and pleasure.

“Shall we play a game, my boy?” he whispered, his lips moving to Blaine’s ear where the heat of his breath could tickle it.

“A g-game?” Blaine managed after a few seconds.

“A g-game what?” Kurt asked, teasing slightly my mimicking his stutter. There were rules for the games after all, and even though this was largely a spontaneous event, he preferred that certain protocols be maintained.

“A game, Kurt,” he corrected, and Kurt rewarded him with a chaste kiss to the temple. It was only the beginning; he would have his title before the end of this.

“Yes Blaine, a game. A fun little game that will last…oh I think about thirty minutes. Wouldn’t want dinner to burn after all.”

The deviousness in his tone was clear, and a less-aroused Blaine might have been a little more wary, but this Blaine, the one that even now was trying ineffectually to get Kurt’s thigh just the slightest bit higher? This Blaine would agree to anything, and so he did.

Kurt chuckled at his eager response, nipping his earlobe lightly.

“It’s a simple game, sweetheart,” he informed him. “I’m going to release your hands shortly. You are not to move them from this position. You’ll only have one chance to mess up before you face censure. The game ends when you’re screaming my name, or when the timer for dinner goes off. But, my boy, if that happens, the timer will be the only thing getting off.”

Blaine’s groan this time was decidedly disgruntled, and Kurt barely resisted a devious smile. Payback was hell, he thought gleefully, recalling a similar threat his boyfriend had made to him in weeks prior.

“Do you understand?”

“Y-yes Kurt.”

“Then,” he said, releasing his wrists, “let’s begin.”

*

Kurt’s internal clock told him that just under ten minutes have elapsed thus far in their activities. And what a delicious ten minutes it had been. Blaine has been good so far – his hands have remained just where Kurt had left them – something that Kurt was marvelling at. He’d have long since succumbed if it was him who had been pushed up like this, having his still clothed nipples alternatively laved and nipped roughly while a hand was in his boxers, a thumb devilishly circling his leaking head in a tantalising caress that infuriated and slowly stroked a ravenous heat within him while doing little to offer him any respite from it.

So far, Kurt had managed to draw more than a few moans from Blaine so far, and the occasional glances upwards showed him growingly increasingly wrecked, eyes closed and lips parted as he panted, breathing harshly in response to Kurt’s sweet torment. It was a sight that Kurt wished he could see more often, but it still wasn’t enough. He had no intention of making this any easier for his boyfriend, and so, with one last particularly vicious bite that left Blaine bucking into his hand, he moved his attention downwards.

Chuckling despite himself, and completely loving the rush it gave him to know that he was responsible for the increasingly debauched expression on his face. Gracefully, Kurt sunk into a crouch, licking his lips in desire as his hand came free with sticky, pre-release that he couldn’t resist savouring for long moments while marvelling at the still hidden bulge that he enjoyed taking deep inside of him until he lost all sense of himself. Right now though, he reminded himself, he wasn’t here to take pleasure in serving Blaine’s admirable girth – he’s here to torment him – and so he did.

His name is ripped from Blaine’s lips as a cry when Kurt, after freeing him, boldly swept his tongue around his head, mimicking his thumb’s previous pattern. He’s emboldened by the sound, relishing the power he had over his usually in control boyfriend. It was a testament to the fact that he was usually in the submissive stance in these scenes because, when Blaine finally forgot the rules and dropped his hands down to try to press Kurt further onto him, Kurt had to force himself not to moan and surrender to it, to immediately widen his mouth and sink down onto him as far down as he possibly could, and then, once his breathing had been regulated, relax his throat to press forward and allow those last few inches to sink into him until his nose was pressed to Blaine’s skin.

He almost succumbed to the overwhelming urge, until, at the last moment, he remembered that this is not that game, and so, reluctantly, he forced himself to refocus and drop back into dominance as he pulls back, first giving Blaine’s dick a (carefully controlled) smack that jarred him from his pleasure before rising, countenance stern as he met his wild eyes.

The brief pain served its purpose – Blaine’s face now sported a shamed-face expression, pleasure subdued by the fact that he has broken an order and now faced punishment for it. They both know that he had disobeyed, and were the positions reversed, Kurt would now be trying to form the coherent words needed to answer Blaine’s questions pre-rebuke. But their techniques were not the same. Kurt doesn’t need Blaine to vocalise his errors; he settled for simply balling up and lifting Blaine’s vest up and off him, tangling it in his wrists. He works quickly, ignoring Blaine’s inquiring mewl as he twisted and shifted it (thankful that it’s just one of those cheap vests that Blaine still insists on wearing) until the cloth has become an inescapable handcuff that Blaine instinctively tried to escape from before ceasing at the stern look Kurt gave him. Kurt could see that Blaine thought that this was the extent of his punishment, but no, Kurt E. Hummel could be as devious as his tied boyfriend when needed.

Kurt’s care had left a small bit of a vest strap untwined. He grasped it and pushed upwards, and felt embolden by Blaine’s startled gasp when he succeeded in wrapping the loop around a cupboard door handle. It’s high enough that Blaine is forced on to his toes, his body strung tightly. It is an uncomfortable position, but he’d survive, Kurt thought with satisfaction, searching his eyes briefly for a true sign of distress while still giving him the opportunity to use that precious word that would instantly cease everything.

He didn’t say anything, and that was all the indication that Kurt required to carry on.

*

The restraints are what tipped the game further into Blaine’s favour, Kurt would belatedly realise. The ingenuity in it, it’s tight, unrelenting grip and the fact that he is now entirely helpless fans Blaine’s passion. He was moaning wantonly even before Kurt had fully returned to his previous position, teasingly blowing air on the reddened organ before him, a maddening play of air that had Blaine tying and failing to buck forward. It was an impossible action though, one that he could not perform without offsetting his already precarious balance, and while Kurt would not exactly mind the handle before negatively impacted by their play (it had come with their home and he was looking for a reason to redesign anyway) Blaine had enough of his faculties left to not grant him his wish.

Huffing at the thought, Kurt, in retaliation, unexpectedly swallowed down Blaine’s dick, relishing it’s almost startled throb. His hands descended to grasp Blaine’s full balls firmly, tightly, and then, belatedly painfully to ensure that Blaine would not come. It’s delightful torment, and after a minute of harsh sucking that hollows Kurt’s cheeks entirely, he heard it, a long, drawn out groan before Blaine started begging, his voice a cracked, entirely lust filled mess.

“God…please…Please Kurt…please…oh god….I can’t…please let me come. I can’t – oh god sir!”

Kurt had been waiting for that wonderful three letter word, a complete surrender that signalled that he had not only reduced his boyfriend to a trembling, increasingly unintelligible mess, but also one who had now graced him with that cherished title that sent a bolt of pure lust straight to Kurt’s cock, and instantly he knew that he too only needed a bit of friction to spill himself into his underwear.

But no, that was not priority. Blaine had fulfilled the terms of the game – with seconds to spare as even now the timer for dinner was sounding – and Kurt was nothing but fair. He eased back, putting all his attention on the most sensitive part of Blaine – his head – suckling on it now with a tenderness that belief his previous harshness as his hands dropped away and Blaine immediately exploded.

Kurt had had to work quickly, replacing his mouth with his hand after the initial spurt to caress and guide Blaine through the rest of his orgasm, even as he stood and braced him, freeing his wrists from the handle so that he would not strain himself as his body went slack. Kurt took his weight easily, whispering loving endearments into his still shuddering, moaning boyfriend’s ear as at last, his dick ceased its throbbing and spurting.

Uncaringly, Kurt wiped the ejaculate on his own jeans before carefully lifting and carrying Blaine to the couch. He left him just long enough to rescue their dinner and fetched him a box of juice. Blaine, still relishing in the afterglow of his fulfilled pleasure, had been too spaced out to notice his departure. He reacted though to Kurt threading his fingers through his hair. He shifted, and Kurt allowed him to move freely as he wished until his head was settled in his lap, breathing gradually gentling.

Time passed slowly as he recovered, until finally he was cognitive enough to allow Kurt to help him sit up enough for Kurt to carefully feed him the juice. He returned a lot quicker after that, energised by the bit of sweetness until he could sit up completely to offer Kurt a tender smile that doubled as an invitation. He wasn’t a hundred percent back then, Kurt noted, even as he carefully claimed his lips in a kiss that while subtly dominating, was mostly loving. Blaine sighed into it, and leaned over when they parted to rest his head against Kurt’s shoulder trustingly.

The quaint gesture warmed Kurt’s heart, and, carefully, he manoeuvred them downwards so that Blaine was fully lying on him, taking comfort from their closeness. It didn’t matter that Kurt himself had not reached his peak – the passion had quickly subsided into a more pressing desire to just comfort and care for his boyfriend, and that was exactly what he did.

They would have to talk about it at some point, and decide whether Blaine’s needs had been fully met before Kurt really was not one hundred percent sure that he was capable of assuming the role of Dominant when it was required of him.

But that, he reflected, as he murmured sweet nothings into Blaine’s ear could wait. For now, all he would do was lie there and enjoy the comfortable weight of the slumbering man on him. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine and Kurt discuss the intricacies of their relationship.

"I don't know Kurt," Blaine admitted, "I don't think I can...punish you. I mean, you're an adult. I feel like it may be demeaning to you."

"It wouldn't be," Kurt said, after careful consideration of his words. "I mean...I guess it can be a little embarrassing. I mean you'd be my boyfriend punishing me. But, I don't think I'd see it as being demeaning. To be honest, it kind of appeals to me."

"Can you tell me why?" Blaine inquired. "I'm not saying no Kurt...I just want to understand what you think you'd get out of this. I mean we've never done more than...smacks during sex."

"Are you blushing?" the fairer of the two said with a light chuckle. And to think that he used to believe that he was the baby penguin! "Okay," he relented seconds later when Blaine gave him a morose look. "I'll answer you. It's just that... When I first got to New York Blaine, I went a bit wild."

"I remember," Blaine interrupted with a small smirk, recalling the less than stellar Facebook photographs and drunken calls and messages he had received during their time apart.

"Yeah. I'm really glad you ended up graduating early and coming up here just after New Years. You grounded me - brought be back down to reality. It's just that, in those first few weeks after I got here, I decided that now that I was 'free', I had to live it up. There was no dad to make sure I didn't stay up all night or blow my budgets. There was no Carole to remind me that I hadn't eaten nearly enough to sustain me. There were no teachers or coaches, rules, punishments and detentions to be given. Hell, I didn't even have any school to go to until NYU took me in as a late admissions student after the disaster that was NYADA. Have I told you thank you lately for convincing me that applying to one school was crazy?"

"Have I thanked you lately for pointing out that a summer at a community college and a few extra classes would get me here two terms early? And, have I thanked you for showing me that we could graduate on time, together, if I added two extra courses this semester and took three in the summer?"

"Point taken," Kurt admitted, reaching forward to kiss him tenderly. "My point is," he said eventually, coming back to the crux of their discussion, "I realised that I didn't have anyone to answer to, any accountabilities and it sent me wild. There was nothing I could do that would have any consequences."

"Kurt," Blaine said gently, "I think if you tried robbing a bank you'd quickly see that there still are consequences."

Kurt laughed despite himself. "Yes Blaine, I'm well aware that there're laws, and I don't intend to break any of them. But, when it comes to little things...in my personal life, I wouldn't mind having someone to keep me in check...to be accountable to once again. I'm not saying I want a parent or anything Blaine, and it wasn't until we started researching more about this lifestyle that I kind of realised that it I've kind of been missing having someone to answer to. And I know it's wrong to ask this of you because you're my boyfriend and I'm an adult and I should be able to know what I should or should not be doing but-"

"Rambling Kurt," Blaine interjected softly, reaching over to run his hand across his cheek. "Okay, I understand what you're saying. But, can I...can we have some time to really think about this? To make sure it's something we really want to do? I mean, we both know that we don't mind the sex part of it." He broke away with a bit of a lecherous grin as they both recalled that first night after they had stumbled into Feather. The sex they had had had been vicious, raw and incredible. They could both easily acclimatise to a bit of kinkiness in their relationship - hair pulling, filthy words whispered in between vicious thrusts, even a bit of pain in the form of too hard nips or fingers that dug into the skin just a bit too deep.

But incorporating it outside of that, into their everyday lives? That was a bit harder to imagine doing. Not impossible by any stretch, but just, a bit difficult to envision.

"Okay, Blaine," Kurt agreed, glad that he had not laughed in his face or called him weird or any other unflattering names. "We can definitely think some more about this."

*

Nearly a week had passed after that first conversation when Blaine abruptly realised that becoming the one who would hold Kurt accountable would be far less of a burden than he had thought it would be. It wasn't any one moment in particular that finally made that clear to him. It was just that, he had become increasingly aware of what he was doing - the fact that he had to shoo Kurt off Youtube when he should have been working on his paper, gently cradle him to his chest as he carried him to their bed after Kurt had refused to sleep early as Blaine had advised, and the fact that he could do more than try to guilt him into eating a bit more of his dinner because he really, despite his protests, was not eating as he should. Suddenly, as he watched Kurt carry his plate to the sink after eating all of the vegetables on it but not an ounce of the meat or mashed potatoes, the realisation hit him. He could do more, a lot more than simply sit here and watch Kurt do it, besides wonder if he should call Burt and see if he could talk some sense into a son whose hip bones were starting to become twin points of pain whenever they made love. Kurt had basically given him a free pass into giving him the help he truly needed, and it was in that moment that Blaine made his decision.

"I'll do it," he said, putting down his fork.

The look Kurt shot him was one of pure confusion. "I can wash a plate, Blaine."

"Not that, Kurt," he said, with a hint of exasperation. "I mean about...the lifestyle and making it our lifestyle. I'll do it."

"Really?" Kurt asked, his eyes widened in surprise. "I mean, wow, I'm glad, but...what brought this about?"

"Just...figured that this was as good a time as any," he answered with a nonchalant shrug; to say the truth would be to get into an argument that he really did not want right now. There would be other times for it, especially when he could have more control with regards to the situation. "You haven't changed your mind about it, have you?"

"No, not at all," he answered hurriedly, plate forgotten as he moved to Blaine's side so he could look down at him. "Blaine, are you sure? Do you think we can manage this?"

"We can try," he responded firmly, easing back his chair so that Kurt could claim his knee. "We can try it...a trial period if you want, and we can reassess it afterwards, and even in that time. This won't be easy Kurt. Remember what we’ve read? It's going to take a lot to make this work, but I'm pretty confident that we can manage this."

"We can," Kurt answered, surety in his voice. "And remember what Elliot told us? He's available to help if we need it."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed, a lot more certain now at the mention of the man he jokingly referred to as a super-Dom, "I'm pretty sure that we can do this."

*

What followed after was a series of discussions as they embarked on their journey into it. The first thing on the agenda was navigating through the rules that existed for the community they were seeking membership for and deciding what they would or would not integrate into their lives. Some things were easy to eliminate; coming up with their hard and soft limits went quickly. Neither wanted anything to do with bodily fluids beyond semen, and even then both of them decided that wiping off ejaculate post-coitus was as far as they wanted to go with it. Intentional facials were demeaning in Kurt's opinion, and although he willingly swallowed, Blaine didn't see how playing around with cold, sticky come could be attractive. Neither of them batted an eyelash before typing blood, faeces and urine into the hard limit's column (Kurt went one step further and added a "HELL TO THE NO" one to his).

Anything that did permanent damage in play was also eliminated. Humiliation was also negated because they'd both suffered enough of that during their time in Ohio. Voyeurism and sharing was on the soft list as a mild maybe (the choice of the latter surprised them both, but they both shyly admitted that at the club, seeing two or more bodies writhing together was a rather erotic sight that they could be a part of), but public play was a severe soft limit. Kurt was willing to endure a subtle look from Blaine that was reprimanding, or perhaps a quiet scold, but anything attention drawing? That was not at all to be on the books.

It was then though, that Kurt realised that Blaine was supporting a rather thoughtful look on his face, before he, almost tentatively asked if they could make it a dual thing.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked him. "What do you mean if it can go both ways?"

Blaine shrugged, looking away for long moments. "I...not all the time Kurt, but maybe, just on occasion, could we...switch?"

"Switch," Kurt repeated, processing the word and its meaning in terms of this. "You want to be a submissive, to me?" The thought had never even entered his mind.

Blaine nodded, a quick head jerk with averted eyes that told Kurt that he was not at all entirely comfortable with the way the conversation had turned.

"Would you...want that?" Kurt asked then, putting his laptop onto the table so that he could turn and give his boyfriend his fullest attention. "It never even occurred to me."

Blaine shrugged. "I can see the appeal of it. I don't...need it, not in the same way you were talking about, but I like the aftercare aspect of it. I was thinking about it during class today, day dreaming really. I just imagined you taking care of me, feeding me and cuddling me and making all decisions for me because I just didn't want to. I don't even mean in big ways...you picking out an outfit for me, telling me to be a good boy and study hard...it felt good thinking about it."

Kurt nodding, processing his words for a long moment. "I can do that," he said with surety. "I can definitely do that for you."

"I'm glad," Blaine replied, giving him a soft smile. "So we'll do this for each other. I'll take care of you-"

"And you'll take care of me."

*

Titles were the next major issue the pair had to face. There were so many, and at one point, Blaine even questioned the need for it.

"We don't have to do what everyone else does. I mean, I understand the whole, it shows respect aspect of it, but as long as you don't say "yes dickweed" in the middle of a scene, I don't think we need to establish any titles. Unless you want to?"

"I don't know," Kurt admitted. "Maybe...?"

"Well then, we'll play around with it," Blaine decided. "You try some on me, I'll try some on you, and whatever seems to stick, we'll go with?"

"Okay."

It almost became a sort of a game for them. At random times in conversations, one or the other would drop a title, gauging both the other's reactions to it as well as their own comfort with regards to it.

Kurt was the first one to try it. It was casually done, while in the act of cooking. Blaine had asked him to pass him a turnip, and in heeding him, Kurt responded with a "yes, mister."

Blaine's snort had been enough to cut that off the list immediately.

Blaine's attempt had been next. In the middle of sex, (not entirely the gentle, loving kind) that he had whimpered out, "please more, daddy." Needless to say, that had been the end of that night's sex because Kurt could not stop laughing. And, once Blaine had gotten past his shame at it, he joined in as well.

"Master" was similarly rejected, so to its foreign language equivalents. It was as if they were slowly working their way towards the word that to be fair, had been on the top of both of their lists for a while.

It was almost natural as breathing for Kurt, feeling particularly vulnerable one day, to round the corner into their bedroom and say "I need you sir", and that was it. He had found his title for Blaine, and a few days later, Blaine decided that that word could work both ways.

*

They both knew from that start that in terms of establishing rules for their relationship, Kurt's would be a lot more comprehensive than his. With that in mind, Blaine decided that they could, at first, focus on what would be expected of him during his moments of submission. His needs, as they had previously discussed, were considerably simpler; he just wanted the option to surrender to Kurt if he so desired. However, if Kurt saw it fit to, or desired it, he could deliberately put Blaine into submission. And so, in less than five minutes, they had outlined Kurt's expectations of him.

He was to refer to Kurt respectfully as far as possible (either by name or by the agreed upon 'sir'). The only exception would be in situations when it was abundantly clear that he was too far under the influence of his feelings or headspace and instead decided to impart upon Kurt an affectionate name. He was to follow along obediently with anything within reason that Kurt required of him, although, as always he would have a yet to be agreed upon safe word in case he found himself put into a scenario he was not prepared to engage in.

A few more general, everyday rules were also decided upon, There would be no more of that forgetting to text/call whenever he planned on staying out past 9:00 on a weekday, unless he and Kurt had previously discussed it ("It was just that one time Kurt," he had protested. "It was one time too many, Blaine!"). He would stick to their agreed upon chore chart ("You break that more than me!" "Hush you").

Others could and would be added over time.

Blaine's rules as Kurt's dominant were a bit more comprehensive. He would always and immediately heed Kurt's safeword, and check in on his state during a scene. He was to never give Kurt an order in the midst of an argument or in any other way try to use his status as Kurt's dom to his advantage. He was to never issue or follow through with a punishment if he was in anything but a clear, calm state. He would never, ever venture onto Kurt's soft limit list without prior consultation and he was to never introduce a new item into a scene, be it sexual or discipline if it had not been previously discussed. The details of their relationship was not to be spoken of with anyone without Kurt's express permission (Elliot being the only exception) and he was never, in any way, to perform an act that would leave Kurt feeling anything but safe and loved.

No punishment was to be administered without Kurt being made to understand exactly what infraction he had committed, and if he safe-worded, the punishment was to be halted until Kurt's needs or concerns could be met. And, Kurt had added almost hesitantly, Blaine was to immediately tell him, at any point, if he no longer felt comfortable acting in a dominant role for Kurt. He was to say if he no longer wanted it integrated into their lives, and Kurt would accept and respect it. If, beyond that, Kurt still felt the need for discipline, then Elliot would be brought into it to assuage that need.

Blaine though, seriously doubted that it would ever come to that point, but Kurt was not so certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really a plot driven chapter, but I found it necessary.  
> The next one will deal with Blaine's punishment mentioned previously.


	4. Sick

Blaine had tried to be discreet about it. He had begged off their movie night so that he could snuggle deeply into the warm cocoon he had rolled their bed sheets and comforter into. The next morning, he had waited until he was safely underneath the sprayer of the shower to blow his nose harder than should be allowed in a futile attempt to clear clogged, tormented nasal passages. And finally, he had literally fled from the apartment under the guise of a forgotten group meeting before Kurt could realise that he was not warm from an extra hot shower and wonder at the fact that he had left with nothing but a quick peck to the cheek because, love of his life or not, Kurt would murder him if he gave him a cold during this busy time of their academic lives.

He had failed though, and miserably so. By the time he had returned home, face flushed and feet leaden as he stumbled his way across the threshold, Kurt had already set up the couch for himself. He was further chagrined at the decidedly un-amused expression he bore even as a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and a slew of medication were inflicted upon him. Finally, and just when Kurt had seemed ready to scold him, he had conceded that perhaps there was the smallest of possibilities that he was just the slightest bit ill. Kurt’s snort had been legendary, but, with only a bit of reluctance, Blaine submitted himself to Kurt’s ministrations, allowing himself to be bustled into baths and bed, to be awoken periodically for liquids and tablets as Kurt tried his best to return him to good help.

He even relished it in moments of lucidity, the brush of Kurt’s palm against his sweaty forehead, the way he almost cooed at him in the aftermath of a particularly harsh bout of coughs or, on day three, when his stomach decided that all food was the enemy.

But then it happened.

On the Sunday the weather took a particularly horrid turn for the worst, and to compound it, they ran out of the tablet form of medication. Kurt was unable to leave their flat to go replenish that stock, and that left only one option, liquid medication that Blaine, absolutely, truly abhorred.  

“No,” Blaine grumbled, in his hoarse, barely there voice, compounding it by turning his head away.

They’d been at it now for at least fifteen minutes now. Blaine knew that he needed the medication, and the blissful haze it would undoubtedly give him. But, he simply couldn’t. He could not bear the thought of that absolutely artificial glop slowly gliding down the measuring cup, to slide its way into his mouth and coat his tongue with its disgustingness before painfully slowly meandering its way down his ravaged throat to bubble in his already tumultuous stomach.

No he couldn’t and he wouldn’t and Kurt would just have to accept that, despite the fact that he couldn’t see the logic behind it. Couldn’t he just accept that he would be okay until the storm abated and Kurt could get the good kind? Who needed medicine anyway? He was sure that at any moment now, his body’s defences would finally crack the code that would allow for a mass assault on the germs within him that would leave him bouncing back to reality without further need for fuss.  

It was too bad that Kurt did not seem to be in the mood to agree with him if the glare on his face was anything to go by. Blaine knew that look he was sporting well – it was the one he had always seen directed at Finn back in Lima when he was being impossible. Rarely though had Blaine ever done something that necessitated Kurt turning that patented glare upon him, and truly, if he wasn’t so firmly root in his anti-liquid stance, Blaine would have long since backed off.

“I don’t want it,” he repeated petulantly, turning his head away once again when Kurt, this time armed with a deeply slotted spoon that prevented spillage, approached. “M’fine.”

“You are not fine, Blaine Devon,” Kurt bit out, standing beside the bed. “Do you realise how ridiculous you are being right now? It’s grape. You _like_ grape.”

"Real grapes," he returned, "not that garbage."

"Blaine -"

"I'm not taking it," Blaine declared, any attempt at determination lost behind a slew of painful coughs that rattled the bed.

"Well I guess it's moved past a simple stomach flu stage," Kurt said, mostly to himself.

He walked away from him then, clicking the lights off as he did. Blaine wondered about it briefly - it wasn't like Kurt to just leave him like this, even if he was annoyed with him. Nevertheless, if that meant that he would not have to swallow that liquid, he would take it. The lights were too bright anyway.

He would later tell himself to be extra careful anytime Kurt acted out of character. His boyfriend had outwitted him. A few minutes later, when he had just about completely descended into sleep, Kurt had appeared, dose correctly measured out and fed it to him before he could rouse the will to protest. He would do so...the next time he was conscious.

_*_

Kurt had not paid much attention to the series of pops from his phone. It was a little after ten on a Wednesday morning. It was about the time when Rachel had her weekly pre-dance class meltdown. Why she had willingly chosen to endure a second dance class with the blonde devil was beyond him, but one of these weeks Kurt knew he would lose all patience with her and remind her (politely of course because he wouldn't want to have to deal with Blaine's disapproval) that this was a torment of her own choosing and would she please not rehash the same issues every seven days.

But...just not this week, he had told himself hours earlier when he had settled for dropping the phone deep into the recesses of his jam-packed bag. She could wait - his assignment couldn't.

His days were hectic and he did not have a second to waste. The online databases had failed him, so that most of the essays he had planned to do in the wee hours of the morning now required him to actually, manually pour over book after book to gain the information he needed for his essays. And to get those books required him to take frequent trips to the library between classes and work until he could manage to assemble the army of authors he required.

But, despite the urgency of his academics, Kurt also had a secondary reason that had him speed-walking down the corridors that would take him to the library for the second time that day. His first trip (done seconds after the library doors opened) was for Blaine. He had snuck out his reading lists and had gone again to get him the most pressing of the materials. His boyfriend was in his fifth day of illness, but unfortunately, the real world would not wait on him and there was only so much leeway the university would give him. Thankfully, the librarian had paid little heed to the ID he had presented to her, otherwise he would have had a lot of explaining to do as to how he not only had, but also knew the intimate details associated with Blaine's account. That was not a discussion to be had pre-coffee.

To be fair, Kurt was, even now, a bit indecisive about helping his boyfriend out like this. He really was terribly ill, and despite his protests about it, Kurt was certain that his academic situation was not as dire as he had made it out to be the night before. But, for the first time ever, Blaine was having difficulties keeping up with his school load. Before his illness, Kurt had woken up many a night to find his boyfriend pouring over articles or books at odd hours of the morning with a pensive looks on his face. Just the previous Friday, Kurt had actually been awoken by Blaine's sobs, although, since the very next day Blaine had come down with a particularly vicious virus the next day, Kurt was pretty much certain that that had been the catalyst of that breakdown.

And so, just to keep him calm, Kurt had pushed aside his feelings towards the matter and assisted him, collecting books and assignments that couldn't be mailed, sitting and reading through materials for him and double checking his work, or else offer his assistance in any way possible. Nothing was going to derail their plans to graduate together in two years time if either of them could help it.

And so, although he would much prefer to be in the warmth of his own home, perhaps nursing a glass of juice while watching Blaine sleep, he was here, forcing himself to stay awake through a ridiculously boring compulsory course. Between his work, Blaine's stuff and taking care of said sick boyfriend, Kurt was exhausted.

Moreover, Blaine was being a handful in all the wrong ways. He was so stubborn about the most minor of details that Kurt at points over the past few days wanted to throttle him. That very first day, he had continued to insist that he was perfectly healthy and fine despite the fact that no human could hope to claim such a putrid shade of green as being their natural skin tone. But, the love of his life was the kind of person who could have his leg torn off and still insist that he could do a two step jig.

That thought had Kurt rolling his eyes in fond exasperation as he happily noted that there were only a few more minutes to go before the lecture ended. It wasn't as if he had to rush home though. For the past two days he had been fortunate enough to rope in a plethora of friends (both the now New York based McKinley friends and otherwise) who would routinely pop in at their apartment throughout the course of the day when he simply could not stave off his responsibilities.

Sam was especially a blessing given that he was all but immune to the force of sick-Anderpuppy eyes, and could bully Blaine as needed. Blaine's classmate Emily was also great company and would willingly read aloud so that he could keep up. It was with those comforting thoughts that Kurt, left the lecture feeling content, deciding that he had the time for a quick coffee before he had to meet with his study group. Blaine would be fine. He had ice-cream, DVDS, and had gotten an extra large dose of cuddles before Kurt had left him that morning.

It wasn't often that Kurt found himself in this position - one in which he could take care of Blaine to this extent. It was not as if he was denied the opportunity; Blaine was the most affectionate person he knew and would willingly, readily and quite often, lay quietly for hair petting and back rubs. But in times of difficulties...when he was stressed or worried? He tended to close himself off in a way that a younger Kurt would have found enviable. He didn't hold it against him, although to be honest, it did bother him. During one of the rare occasions when Blaine had been willing to speak about it, he had admitted to having trust issues that stemmed from Sadie Hawkins.

Kurt could completely understand the feeling of betrayal...of having no-one come to your assistance when, in the middle of a lit parking lot, you had the living daylights being punched out of you. The hurt of everyone claiming ignorance with regards to the identity of his attackers; the indignity of being forced out of his school because others hated him for being different; of being told that it was easily for him to remove himself from the situation rather than trying to educate the homophobic...it had all been too much for him.

High school freshman Blaine had learnt the hard way that the only person he could trust not to fail him was himself, a motto that had led him to striving to be a leader in all things. After all, he was the only one he could have faith in to lead whatever group he was in to success.

It was why, Kurt knew, he had worked his butt off to become the Warbler's front man, and then tried to establish a place for himself in the New Directions. His efforts were not always successful, but Blaine had always tried his best.

It wasn't to say that he didn't trust anyone. Kurt knew that Blaine loved and trusted him. It was just that, despite everything, it was still difficult for him to fully let go and hand himself over to Kurt in health, strength, sickness and weakness.

The new lifestyle Feather had introduced them too was slowly chipping away at that barrier - making them both whole in an entirely new way, but it was still far too early, too soon for Blaine to be an easy patient. And while Kurt loved him, if he was being completely honest, the constant struggle to convince Blaine to just lie in bed and recover was annoying at times. He had nearly collapsed seconds after he had arrived home Friday evening, and, once properly tended to, had admitted to being a "tad ill". The truth was that Kurt had, from that morning, felt the unnatural warmness radiating from him and discerned the odd rough edge to his voice that precluded hoarseness. But had Blaine admitted to it? Of course not, and had probably made his illness worse by walking through the chilly Fall weather.

Kurt huffed in remembered annoyance. He should have just chained his ankle to the bed.

A lot later on that he would have liked, Kurt was finally out of the campus, wishing that he had walked with an extra tote bag that would have made carrying this load considerably easier. Nevertheless, he made it to the train without issue, and, due to the time of day was able to claim an extra seat for his burden. It would be a good twenty minutes until he needed to start checking for his stop, and so he decided that that time could be dedicated to dealing with Rachel. It would give him that much more time later to give Blaine his full attention. Unlocking his phone, and smiling softly at a picture of Blaine at the stove, he quickly opened his messenger. He blinked in surprise. In between Rachel’s messages was one from Emily. Curious, he opened it. A few seconds later, and with a scowl on his face, he took back up his belongings, prepared to exit the train prematurely.

He had to make a return trip to the campus.

*

Blaine knew that he looked decidedly woe begotten, and not solely because of his illness. He knew he was in a world of trouble, had known that from the moment he saw Emily tapping on her phone beneath her desk. It definitely had not been his greatest idea, but, in his defence, he really had felt a lot better when he had woken up that morning. Why then, should he have stayed home when he had a lecture for one of his hardest courses yet? It had made perfect sense at the time, and he had bundled himself up in an extra coat. He had been determined to make it. By the time he finally managed to trudge into the lecture hall, he had been only a minute or so away from passing out.

He felt horrible, and, if the horrified look on his friend’s face had been any indication, he looked like hell as well. The worst part of it all (at that moment) was the fact that he had been in such a daze that he had not even been able to process any of his professor’s droning words. It had been a useless endeavour on his part, and Kurt, when he found out, would be so mad at him. Emily gently touched his shoulder, drawing him out of his morose thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Class is over,” she told him, her expression torn between concern, sympathy and just a shadow of annoyance. “Come on.”

Blaine followed her without complaint, glad for the steadying grip she kept on his arm, as if that alone could help keep him on his feet. Did he look that bad, he worried? Due to her foresight, they were among the last to leave the classroom, which turned out to be a good thing. He would rather not have dealt with the speculation that would result if people saw the way he paled when, turning the corner, he saw Kurt, reclining against a wall, looking at him with steely eyes and a countenance that screamed dominance. Blaine barely resisted the urge to whimper. He was so going to get it.

“I believe this is yours,” Emily said in a slightly joking tone, oblivious to the undercurrents flying between them.

“He is,” Kurt agreed, straightening. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I would have gotten him home myself, but I have a next lecture in an hour.”

“That’s okay, Em. I really appreciate this. We’ll have to take you out for dinner whenever this one is back on his feet.”

“Looking forward to it,” she returned with a grin. “I’ll leave you to it then. See you later Kurt. Blaine, just stay in bed, umm?” she added, before walking off without waiting for an answer.

Blaine had, for the duration of that conversation, been staring most determinedly at a spot on the floor, letting the words wash over him. All that he could discern really was that Kurt’s voice was slightly higher pitch, a thing indiscernible to most but clearly evident to Blaine. It was Kurt’s acting voice, for when he was masking whatever it was he was really feeling inside. Blaine was decidedly not in the mood to look closer to see what exactly it was that he was feeling. Now he was sick, guilty and in trouble. Now, more than ever, Blaine really wished that he had never left his bed.

Kurt’s designer shoes came into his periphery before twin hands wrapped around his forearm, gripping him tightly.

“I’m sorry sir,” Blaine whispered immediately, voice hoarse from days of coughing. “I-“

“Hush you,” Kurt interrupted smoothly, voice equally soft. “Just listen. We are going to get you home and back into bed. You will be perfectly obedient from here on out, Blaine Devon, or trust me, you are going to be an even sorrier little boy when I am through with you.”

A nod was the only thing Blaine could risk doing at this point, and so, docilely, he let himself be led.

*

 The journey home was mostly a dazed blur to Blaine, passed with his head on Kurt’s shoulder. Despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface, Kurt had cradled him close, and even hummed soothingly to him when the train took a turn rather sharply, jostling him. Kurt kept that arm around him as they walked into their home, releasing him only when they got inside. It was only then, as Kurt bent to put what looked like a recyclable cafeteria bag onto the ground, that Blaine even realised that he had been carrying something besides his regular bag. And yet he had held him close the entire way. For some reason that thought caused tears to sting in his eyes.

“Into the bedroom, Blaine,” Kurt said, looking at him, “and back into your jammies. I’ll be there soon.”

Blaine nods, walking heavily across the floor, shedding garments haphazardly as he goes. He’s already in trouble; things truly couldn’t get much worse…

Dressed as Kurt had bid, Blaine sat on the edge of the bed, feeling completely sorry for himself. His head was throbbing, the queasiness had returned, and he just felt so tired, so exhausted. He wanted to sleep, wanted to do nothing else but sleep, but that wasn’t what Kurt had told him to do. He probably was going to rip the hide off him, if not worse. He could only hope that he could bear it in his current state. It was deserved after all; he really had done a stupid thing.

Tears were trickling down Blaine’s face by the time Kurt entered the room. He sniffled, failing to be discreet as he wiped his tears. He heard a clink – Kurt was depositing something – before surprisingly gentle fingers curled underneath his chin, lifting his head up. Almost reluctantly, Blaine obeyed the unsaid command and raised his eyes. Kurt’s expression, while not completely warm and gentle, did not radiate with the depth of anger from before.

“Sir?” he managed.

“Whatever am I going to do with you, hmm?” Kurt said, with a soft sigh.

He had a handkerchief in his hand; with it, he dabbed at Blaine’s cheek, tsking all the while. “So much trouble with you these past few days, and now this? You’re certainly gunning for punishment, little boy. But not now,” he added, when Blaine whimpered. “Right now, what you’re going to do is eat this soup, take your medicine, and go to bed. The rest will be dealt with later.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good boy,” Kurt said, a shadow of a smile flitting at his lips before, bending, he pressed his lips to his forehead.

The soup, Blaine ate without a word, glad for the way it soothed his throat as it slid down, warming him from the inside out. The orange juice as well was heavenly, and he drank two glassfuls under Kurt’s watchful gaze. The medicine though… It was the same disgusting liquid Kurt kept trying to force on him. It wasn’t fair, he groused. Kurt had had plenty of opportunity to get him tablets; it must be deliberate. Blaine shot him a morose look, and, despite knowing that he really should not do so, he shook his head.

“I don’t want it.”

“Do not make me repeat myself, Blaine Devon,” Kurt snapped, his tone entirely fed up.

Blaine’s eyes stung immediately at the words, and he ducked his head.

“Sorry,” he whispered tearfully. “I-I’ll drink it,” he said meekly.

His defeated tone affected his boyfriend, for, momentarily, he found himself cradled in Kurt’s arms, one hand gently carding through his head.

“I’m sorry too,” Kurt whispered. “I should not have snapped at you.”

“I deserved it.”

“You’re ill. I should be making allowances for that.”

Kurt hugged him for several moments longer before feeding him the medicine.

“Bed now?” Blaine asked after grimacing.

“Yes. You probably haven’t realised it, but your fever is back. Let’s hope you can sleep it off.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed, and in a minute, Kurt is bent over him, tucking the sheets firmly around him.

“Stay in bed Blaine,” he told him after, sitting beside him. “You don’t seem nauseous, but the pail is right here on the ground just in case. I don’t care if you wake up and get bored, you are not to leave this bed except to go to the bathroom.”

“Yes sir,” Blaine responded, even as he found himself quickly growing drowsy. “I’ll obey Kurt. I promise.”

“See that you do and I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

Those words had a rather ominous edge to them, Blaine thought, but, the medicine was fast acting, and he was asleep before he could even start to formulate the words needed to ask a question regarding it.

*

Kurt was right. His misadventure set him back a few days. It was a difficult time, with Kurt refusing to leave the apartment unless he had ample supervision for him. He had proven that he could not be trusted, Kurt had told him simply, not even relenting when Blaine promised that, this time, he would not disobey. Blaine though, as initially, was far from the perfect patient. Occasionally he tested Kurt, getting out of bed, refusing to eat or once (and just once) refusing to take his medicine. It only takes Kurt’s arching a single brow for him to relent, but he knew that it was too late. Strike number whatever had been made.

It is not until that weekend, a full week after he had become ill that both Kurt and Blaine could agree that he truly was on the road to recovery. He had woken that morning with considerable energy, and though the first few steps had been a bit shaky, by the time he had reached the kitchen, he felt well enough to pull together a simple breakfast for the both of them. Kurt hadn’t questioned him past a hand against his skin to check his temperature before digging in to slightly over salted eggs.

“I feel so much better Kurt,” Blaine said, once the dishes had been cleaned.

“You’re not completely out of the woods yet though, honey,” Kurt responded, still nursing his cup of coffee. “I want you to take it easy this weekend.”

“I will. But isn’t this great? I don’t think I have to spend the entire day in bed. There’s so much I can get down now…”

“We have something to take care of first,” Kurt interjected, his tone still conversational as he set aside his now empty cup.

Perhaps it was the exuberance of feeling well, or the casualness of Kurt’s words that caused Blaine to not realise the hidden meaning in that statement.

“Meet me in the living room please,” Kurt finished, walking away.

“K. Just let me pack this.”

*

“Hi, done,” Blaine said, walking into the room.

Kurt was seated in the centre of the couch, posture relaxed. “Come here please,” he bid, holding out a hand to him.

Blaine listened without question, and in moments, slipped his hand into Kurt’s still extended one. “What are we doing?” he asked, curiously, a small smile on his lips.

“This,” Kurt replied simply, before tugging hard on their clasped hands.

Blaine gasped, more in surprise than anything. The tug caught him off guard, and so, quicker than he could comprehend; he had tumbled down until he was sprawled across Kurt’s lap, face down. The reality of the situation hit him immediately.

“Sir,” he protested, even as Kurt rearranged his body as suited his knees, pushing his torso a bit further up onto the couch, and angling his legs so that he could trap them under one of his. “Sir, please.”

“Please what, Blaine?” Kurt asked levelly, and there it was that edge to his tone that screamed that he was now in charge. “Please deal with all of the transgressions you have committed over the last few days? Please tan your backside red for being a brat over _cold syrup_? Please punish you as I promised to do until I am certain that you would never _think_ of acting, for less actually carry on the way you did these past few days, again? Gladly Blaine; you never need doubt me taking you to hand when you need it.”

Blaine did not even know where to start responding to Kurt’s statement, and indeed, Kurt did not give him much opportunity to do so as, lifting his hand, he brought it down with a crisp smack against Blaine’s pyjamas covered behind. It smarted immediately, not overbearingly so, but in a way that plainly told Blaine that he was in for a most unpleasant time. And it was. With each downward fall of Kurt’s hand, Blaine forcibly remembered his behaviour over the past few days. Each smack was both a reminder, a chastisement and a warning to him to not repeat his actions. In under a minute, the lesson was learnt, and Blaine found himself dissolving into tears and breathy sobs.

Crying, Blaine reached down to grasp a bit of material from Kurt’s pants in his hand, taking comfort from the small contact. He wiggled as the sting escalated, tears running faster from his eyes as Kurt sped up the tempo. Finally, after a little over three minutes, Blaine was overcome. A particularly sharp smack drew a wail of misery from him, and surprisingly, Kurt immediately ceased, the hand that was so sternly applying discipline to him switching to a gentle caress of the small of his back.

Later, Blaine would realise that it was his own residual illness that exacerbated the punishment, for truly, Kurt had gone easy on him. The pink tinge to his backside would, by that afternoon, be completely gone, replaced by the slightest tinge of soreness. But for now, it was as if Kurt had applied a flame to his behind, and Blaine cried, and twisted long after he had ceased, until finally, the pain receded enough for him to calm down and recognise that, alongside the taps to his back, Kurt was speaking to him.

“There, there. You’re fine Blaine. Come now, it was not too strict a punishment. You are still too ill for me to treat with you as you deserve. There’s a good boy. That’s it, deep breaths, calm down for me. I doubt your butt is more than pink. I’d have spanked you scarlet as you deserve, but, given your state, it would be just cruel. But no more, you hear. Any more misbehaviour like this and I will take that slipper you so love doling to me to your own backside and see if you appreciate its message more than me. There we go. There we go. Yes honey, that’s it, you’re fine.”

“Sleepy,” Blaine murmured eventually, long after calming. He was simply laying there, still across Kurt’s lap, although it was considerably more comfortable now that Kurt was not tapping out a far from cheery tune against his poor behind.

“It’s to be expected,” Kurt replied softly, only now moving to help him straighten. “You’re still not fully back to yourself. It’s why I went so easy on you in the first place. Come on Blaine, let’s get you back into bed for a nap, okay?”

“Yes sir,” he answered, feeling lighter within himself.

He knew without asking that Kurt had, with that punishment, wiped the slate clean. Oh, he didn’t doubt that if he stepped out of line, Kurt’s full wrath would descend upon him, but for now, the matter was closed and over with. There was no more punishment dangling above his head, no need to worry about what and when Kurt would punish him. No, all he had to do now was rest, relax and sooner than later hopefully, return to full health. 


	5. Sir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter this time as I'm just trying to ease back into the groove of writing after a rather...difficult month.

Even now, a year into their journey in this aspect of their relationship, Blaine was not entirely certain that his boyfriend was aware of how open he had become with his emotions in the most blatant of ways. Well, perhaps, he allowed, he still was subtle in his actions. It could be that Blaine had finally perfectly attuned himself to all things Hummel and could easily discern the hidden nuances and meanings to the love of his life’s actions or words.

There were times when Blaine would do little more than smile softly at Kurt’s antics, trying his best not to let his amusement show true. At other times, he would openly snort or roll his eyes. Occasionally, Kurt’s antics would earn his errant boyfriend a smack (or multiple) even as Blaine stored away the situation for a good laugh at a later date. But, despite it all, Blaine would readily admit that he was grateful for Kurt’s little ticks, because they sometimes were the only thing that allowed him to delve beneath the surface and decipher the content of whatever it was he was faced with.

In his mind, Blaine had a series of categories through which he could analyse Kurt’s behaviour. And, most of them, could be aptly summed up by the tone in which he used their title ‘sir’.

There was the ‘sir’ of flattery, perhaps the one used most frequently. That ‘sir’ was emitted in a high pitched, sing song tone or at other times low and husky. It was always accompanied by Kurt cuddling up to his chest, or else with hands grasping handfuls of his clothing, while a chestnut head was buried into whatever nook or cranny of Blaine that was available. Occasionally, perhaps to sink home the victory, Kurt would look up with glistening eyes and quivering lip. And, even though Blaine was always perfectly aware of the manipulation behind it, the majority of times he capitulated to it because really, who could deny the effects of such an adorable sight?

Just the week before, Blaine had found himself under the full force of that sir and those eyes as Kurt had begged him prettily if they could just go over their budget a tiny bit because there was a jacket online he simply _had_ to have because it would complement perfectly the designer shirt he had gotten the week before. By the time he had been done with Blaine, he had wormed his way into a belt and pair of shoes as well. His gratitude though, Blaine thought back on with slight chagrin had definitely made the lack of restaurant visits they would face for the next few weeks worth it.  

There was another ‘sir’ that Blaine liked to think of as Kurt’s [insert whatever rabble of adjectives] sir moments. They usually only occurred in his post-orgasmic bliss state, when he had had a bit too much to drink, or simply at times when Kurt was feeling particularly snugly or affectionate. In this state, Blaine would suddenly find himself with a handful of warm Kurt, who would usually be blearily demanding head rubs and kisses which he rewarded with the babble of words whispered into Blaine’s skin.

There was also, and perhaps the most entertaining of the lot, Kurt’s wheedling ‘sir’ which was usually his final attempt to get himself out of trouble. Of course, it rarely worked unless his transgression was particularly mild, but Blaine always enjoyed (secretly) the way Kurt would grasp his hand and swing it almost childishly while liberally dropping “sirs” into his sentences as if the exaggerated show of submission would miraculously wipe his transgression away. Blaine was always amused when, after he clearly realised his methods were not working, Kurt would dolefully glare at him before turning his head away, using the time to think of a new tactic, or to change his role into that of a suffering submissive. It was always quite a show to behold.

One of the most painful ‘sirs’ for Blaine to deal with was the one emitted during punishment – specifically during a spanking. That ‘sir’ was often the one at these moments Blaine was most alert for, a strain, pain filled utterance that was usually interspaced with a choking sob that told Blaine that yes, the lesson had finally been learnt, and that he could bring Kurt’s chastisement to an end. He never looked forward to that one, but always anticipated it, for it signalled that soon Kurt would be cuddled into his embrace and that he could work on soothing away the very discomfort he had caused.

And finally, to contrast the unpleasantness of the last, there was the ‘sir’ dragged from Kurt’s lips at the pinnacle of his pleasure, where he screamed out the mono-syllabic word in a way that never failed to boil Blaine’s blood. It was a sound of capitulation, where Kurt, even as he crashed into the height of his pleasure was aware of who was responsible for bringing him to that state and was grateful for it.

To be fair, the last variation of ‘sir’ was Blaine’s favourite (not considering the fact that it stroked his ego) but he was well aware that all the variants had their place in their relationship, and that navigating the intricacies of his Kurt would not be as simple without it.


	6. The First Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine takes control sexually for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part 1 of potentially 2/3.

Elliot had told them that they should probably sign an iron clad contract before they ‘officially’ did anything. Oh, it wasn’t a legally binding contract in anyway, he had assured them, laughing at their horrified expressions. He had realised immediately that the pair were envisioning having to go sit before a lawyer and explore the finer details of butt-plugs and whips. It was, he had assured them, just a way of bringing a formality to their relationship that many people appreciated. And, as they usually did when Elliot gave them advice, they had given considerable thought to the idea, mulling on it individually and together. In the end though, they decided against it. That bumbling list they had eventually typed up and saved on their respective computers was as formal as they really needed it to be. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t negotiated anything, and since they both loved each other and would never go against each other’s wishes, they believed there was no need for more than that. After all, Kurt had added, effectively ending that conversation, the only contract he and Blaine would be signing anytime soon was the one for their marriage. 

Elliot had also told them that most people tended to make a ceremony out of the event, especially in the case where the agreement was meant to be a long-lasting or permanent one. Neither of them though, was especially sure of how long this would last. They were, first and foremost, future husbands, not a dom and sub or a combination of both. The only permanence they needed would, once again, come in the form of their marriage soon after they graduated from college (or before that since Kurt was still hell bent on that childhood journal entry that would see him married at twenty one, circumstances be damned).  Therefore, they did not need some sort of fancy moment or symbol. Kurt did not want a collar; neither did Blaine. So, to ‘celebrate’ they had simply popped open the extra bottle of Sangria that Rachel had left the last time she had come over, and shared a glassful before Kurt, with an impish grin and pink cheeks had dragged Blaine to the floor for a ‘bit of fun’ that lasted for hours.

Blaine, still on the rug, with a slumbering, naked Kurt draped over him, was more content than he had been in a long time, as he stroked his hands along Kurt’s still damp skin. He had enjoyed every moment of their love-making…except, once again, as he always did unless particularly well liquored, Kurt had gone out of his way to muffle his noises, biting his lips or wrists or even Blaine, turning his head away and refusing to face forward to ride Blaine. And, it was not as if Blaine was not appreciative of the opportunity to watch Kurt’s delicious ass rise and fall as it took him expertly, he wanted, to _see_ Kurt slowly come apart on top of him. Kurt still had not lost of his high school bashfully and while Blaine still saw it as something endearing, in moments like this it was a bit frustrating. He did not know how else to explain to Kurt that he could be as open with him as he wanted to be in these moments – that it was okay for him to break down and show his vulnerability.

A slow, slightly devious smile spread on Blaine’s face when he realised, taking in the bottle of Sangria that had been knocked over at some point, that he, indeed, did have a way to get Kurt to see things his way.

He knew exactly what their first ‘official’ scene would be.

*

The universe, thankfully, cooperated fully with Blaine’s scheming. Kurt was out of the apartment, out to lunch with Rachel. And, if the conversation this morning had been any indication, it would be a long lunch. Personally, Blaine still did not understand why she and Santana had seen it fit to move in together after Kurt had moved out to live with him upon his arrival and Santana abruptly quite college for…only she knew (hopefully). It wasn’t as if Rachel needed help with the rent, her dads had just taken over paying the full cost of the loft for her. He really did not understand them sometimes. Thankfully though, he was rarely ever dragged into such matters – Sam and Tina were more his forte. But, given the fact that unravelling that drama ensured that he would have an extra two or so hours to arrange everything, Blaine, who had just arrived back at the apartment after class, was really appreciative of that time.

He worked quickly first stripping and replacing the bed sheets with the black satin ones with complementary scarlet pillowcases that instantly altered the room’s atmosphere. To that, he added four black scarves he had bought especially for this purpose. He tied them before moving on. All distractions were eliminated; clothes were folded, the air refreshener was replaced by a few scented candles much more conducive for sexy times, and, perhaps, in a bit of excess, Blaine added a few more thick wax candles that he would light later on. Their bedroom was not in the sun’s direct path; simply pulling their thick curtains close would shroud the room in darkness despite the time of day. Task completed, Blaine moved on. If he timed himself correctly, by the time Kurt was recovered from round one, he would need to eat.

Recalling Elliot’s words, he made a mug of orange juice and a simple, fruit tray. He already set an order for sushi, tempura and a variety of other Japanese delicacies that they both enjoyed that should arrive around seven. He didn’t plan on tormenting Kurt beyond that; they could just spend the rest of the evening relaxing or simply sleeping, tiredness depending. He would just need to ensure that he confiscated Kurt’s phone once he got home. There would be no spontaneous outings this Saturday night.

With everything he could think of ready, all that was left for Blaine to do was shower and change into comfortable yet still enticing clothing and wait for his beloved to return.

*

Kurt arrived a bit later than expected, but it was fine. Blaine had used that time to just sit quietly in a basic yoga position and centre his mind, willing himself into what he hoped was the right mind frame for what was to come.

Kurt returned to their apartment about thirty minutes after Blaine had expected, but it didn't affect his plans too much. Indeed, Blaine had used that time wisely, setting some music they usually used for yoga on repeat while he went into himself, calming his mind as he willed himself into the right mind frame. Yes, a part of him would acknowledge that what he planned to do was a bit selfish, but Kurt would hopefully benefit from it. He wanted to see his fiancé fully unhinged in a way that he only rarely allowed him to do.

Blaine could realistically count on two hands the number of times Kurt had allowed himself to be fully vulnerable with him and while Blaine knew that it was not a matter of trust or a lack of it, but rather years of perseverance that had formed this need for Kurt to withdraw or mask his more extensive emotions, Blaine didn't want that between them anymore - especially in the bedroom.

Blaine was not at all bothered by the fact that Kurt often teased him about how emotive he was during sex - Blaine was open with his feelings in that moment. Every gasp, whimper, moan, thrust or buck was done with pure freedom and abandonment. He never gave a thought to how he appeared in those moments. If he was pleasuring his love while he himself was experiencing bliss, all was well with him. He couldn't help but hope that, by the end of the day, he would have taken Kurt to new heights of pleasure that would hopefully start the process of bringing his walls during sex down.

And, Blaine thought, with a bit of a wicked grin, if it took a couple of more repetitions of this to drive the lesson home to his fiancé, he was okay with that.

*

Kurt realised that his fiancé had been scheming from the moment he closed the door behind him. He could just feel the difference in the atmosphere, as weird as that sounded. Blaine was not on star-fished sprawled out on their oversized couch, sleeping, speaking on the phone or rotting his mind with one thing or another on his laptop. Neither was he bopping around in the kitchen singing whatever caught his fancy from what Kurt could hear. For a moment, Kurt wondered if he was even home, but no, his wallet and keys were still on the side table, which meant Blaine was doing something new and while curious, Kurt was also slightly suspicious given the rather conniving look that he could read from his eyes anything he had looked at him over the breakfast table that morning.

"Blaine?" he called out, well aware that his voice had a hint of uncertainty to it.

He slung his bag on a rung, taking a moment to shrug out of his outer coat and adding that as well.

"In here, Kurt," Blaine called from within the bedroom.

His voice was what struck Kurt first as he walked towards the where he was. It was different...slightly deeper in a way that immediately caused Kurt to stand a little straighter, analysing what was new to his boyfriend's voice. It wasn't inviting, and usually, unless he was busy, Blaine would come out to meet him or else sound a bit more...inviting. That was it, Kurt realised, seconds before he reached the closed bedroom door (and wasn't that in itself weird). Blaine hadn't been simply telling him where he was located; his tone fully implied that he expected Kurt to come to him. At that realisation, Kurt felt something clench within his stomach - but it was not at all out of anxiety.

*

Kurt's instincts had been right. From the moment he opened the door, he could tell that Blaine was currently not his loving fiancé. Before him was the type of person who had mesmerised him during their first unexpected trip into the club. He swallowed deeply. Blaine had obviously been busy, redesigning their bedroom into what promised to be a sex den. And Kurt felt himself responding to it, feeling his blood stirring. What had his breath quickening though was not the environment, but Blaine. He was seated on one of the two bedroom chairs. His hair was gel-free and deliberately tussled in a way that gave it both volume and definition that caused Kurt's fingers to twitch out of a desire to tug and mess it up either further. He was dressed casually and at the same time alluringly. He wore long, leather pants that hugged him yet (from experience) were comfortable enough that Blaine could easily manoeuvre in. Over that he wore a blood red vest that was tight enough to make his ample chest muscles and his biceps stand out.

But, far from the clothes, it was Blaine himself that quickly was causing Kurt's mouth to dry. There was just an aura about him. His eyes, as he met Kurt's were calm yet commanding; he was in full control of both his environment, and Kurt, realised, him.

"Sir?" he asked, not even realising when the title slipped past his lips. It was obviously the right thing to say though, he saw, as Blaine's eyes gleamed briefly before returning to their former expression.

"Come to me," he bid, and in short order, Kurt stood before him, looking down into his eyes but in no way feeling powerful. "How was lunch?" Blaine asked, taking his hand and lacing their fingers.

"The food was good. The whining was not."

A trace of amusement crossed Blaine's features before it cleared. "I'm glad," he said simply. "I have the afternoon planned out for you," he told him. "Are you amendable?"

Kurt knew that this was all the information he was going to get about whatever plans it was that Blaine had constructed. This was what he had wanted, for his beloved to take control of him, to make decisions for him. Yes, at first he had not really looked at the sexual side of it in terms of himself and their relationships, but he was in no way adverse to it...a part of him found it deeply alluring and sensual. He knew what it was about; they had done more than enough research at it, had spoken to Elliot numerous times. And, even though this was a bit out of the blue, he knew he could do this, could put his faith in Blaine simply because he knew that Blaine would never do anything that he would not consent to. He would never cross any of the lines they had discussed. Blaine loved him and Blaine would never hurt him, and for that reason, without a shadow of a doubt, he could say "Yes sir, I am."

Blaine broke out of his mode for a brief moment, just long enough to give Kurt a smile that was one hundred percent him before his burgeoning dom was back.

"Good boy," he said simply, releasing his hand. "I want you to go take a shower for me. I've left out the clothes I want you to wear in the bathroom. When you're done, and whenever you are ready, I want you to come and lie in the centre of the bed for me, okay?"

"Yes sir," he said.

"Good," Blaine responded, turning him to the side and smacking his butt once, more sound than anything else. It did though cause Kurt to release a startled gasp that Blaine seemed to enjoy for he did it again. "Of you go, then."

Kurt obeyed.


	7. The First Scene (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2/3

Kurt seriously had not been expecting to come home to find his fiancé in full dom mode, and it made him nervous. He was really glad at the moment that Blaine had not stipulated a time limit for his personal time in the bathroom, because he really needed it to just...process and adjust. He ran the pipes to their limit, letting the water pummel and forcibly relax his muscles in between leisurely strokes of his favourite body wash. Finally, when there was nothing left to be done, and the relaxation he had achieved threatened to give way to the thoughts that were now becoming increasingly hard to ignore, Kurt shut off the water and stepped out, towelling himself dry.

It was only when he completed that task that he found his first dilemma. He was pretty certain that Blaine had stated that he had left out clothes for him to wear, but the only thing he saw was a carefully folded extra large towel that he could comfortably secure about his waist. But was that really all Blaine intended for him to leave the bathroom with? Kurt's face flushed at the thought, something that shocked him in itself. He and Blaine had been together for nearing on three years now, and they had become a sexual relationship for about half of that time. They had seen each other in various states of undress, both in the throngs of passion and otherwise, so why on earth was he now blushing like a shy virgin at the thought of exiting the bathroom (as he did most mornings) with just a towel around the waist?

He was fully comfortable around Blaine. Except...that really wasn't Blaine waiting outside for him was it? Blaine was his loving, dorky boyfriend. And Kurt, despite asking for this, was not certain yet of whom his dominant was. Was his dominant someone who was equally loving, or was he someone who was cold and clinical? Would he continue to be affectionate in his dealings with him, or would he be an overly strict person? Kurt wasn't sure. Yes they had discussed it, but truly, he had never fully seen it in action, and that made him nervous, so nervous that he was actually hesitating within the bathroom, staring at the door warily.

He could end it now, he told himself. He didn't even need to open the door. All he had to do was shout "Cheerios" and this unknown entity would be gone and he could have his Blaine cuddle and reassure him until this feeling of panic faded. That was all it would take. But wouldn't that also defeat everything he had asked Blaine for in the first place? Ultimately, he supposed, that was what it came down to. Did he trust Blaine enough to take care of him whether he was in dom mode or not? The answer to that was yes, which was why he was finally able to open the door and step forth, albeit hesitantly, his eyes drifting to the floor in his shyness.

Blaine's feet entered his line of vision within seconds; Kurt tensed, not sure what was about to happen.

"Good boy, you've followed my orders perfectly thus far."

His voice, Kurt thought was not too different. His Blaine was there, loving and affection, interlaced with a layer of authority that demanded obedience. He could deal with this, Kurt decided. Blaine's hands cupped his face, and swifter than he could comprehend, his face was lifted and his lips claimed roughly. Kurt moaned, startled by the pure possessiveness he felt. Blaine used the opportunity to slide his tongue into his mouth, thoroughly exploring its depths with a finesse that quickly liquefied Kurt's bones. One hand moved to wrap securely around his waist as Blaine stepped forward, thrusting a leg between his, opening him. Kurt was a wash of emotions. The kiss was both dominating him and lowering all IQ with every sensuous movement, even as Blaine's leg started to move in a manner that just sent Kurt wild. Kurt reached out, a jolt rushing through him as he realised that Blaine was fully clothed, a sharp contrast to his near nakedness that both shamed and excited Kurt. There was just such a difference between them right now that appealed to him on so many levels, and when finally Blaine pulled back, Kurt was a flushed, breathless mess.

Within seconds though, feeling particularly greedy by the emotions Blaine had managed to invoke in him - a passion that he truly could not remember being this inflamed - he leaned forward, ready to kiss him again. His lips barely pressed against his before, quicker than he could process, the hand on his waist dropped three quick, sharp smacks to his bottom that caused him to yelp, more in surprise than anything else. His eyes flew up to Blaine in both shock and confusion, only to find Blaine frowning at him, obviously displeased.

"You do nothing without my permission," Blaine told him firmly, "to disobey will do nothing but earn you more of those. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Kurt responded momentarily, once he processed the fact that in this moment, he could not even touch Blaine without permission. And why did that strangely appeal to him?

"I'm keeping a tally Kurt, three smacks per offence. At the end of this I shall dole out whatever you have earned. So whether you end the day with a full session over my knee is up to you."

"Y-yes sir," Kurt responded.

"Good boy," Blaine whispered, peeking him briefly.

"Now," he continued, releasing him completely, "I believe you've failed to complete one aspect of my earlier order?"

Kurt blinked, thinking back. Shower? Yes. 'Dress'? Yes. Oh... "Sorry sir," Kurt said, and, hoping that it would be the right thing to do, walked around him and laid himself in the bed's centre as he had been originally told to.

"Much better," Blaine said, approaching him. "Do you remember your words?" he inquired, sitting beside him and rubbing a hand against his stomach.

"Yes sir. 'Cheerio' for stop and 'Slushie' for pause."

"I expect you to use those words if you need to, Kurt," Blaine told him seriously. "I'm going to push you, and while it may not be pleasant for you throughout, I want you to feel comfortable enough to direct how it goes for the duration."

"I will Blaine," he promised. "I'll use my words if I have to. B-but, what are you going to do to me?"

"You'll find out," Blaine responded, smirking. "Now star-spread for me okay? I'm going to tie your wrists and ankles."

Kurt hesitated only slightly before he obeyed. He was okay with bondage - and, as seemed to be his running refrain for the afternoon, he had to trust Blaine. His dom kissed each joint before tying them, firm enough that Kurt would feel the pressure, but not enough to actually cut off his circulation or prevent him from slipping his hand free if that was what he really wanted.

"Sir?" Kurt asked, once Blaine reached his ankles.

"Yes, love?"

"I know you won't tell me what you're doing. But will you tell me the purpose of this?"

Blaine cocked his head slightly, as if thinking before nodding. He continued working as he responded. "I want to see you open - completely open Kurt. I want to read every expression on your face as you reach your full passion. I've never seen that so far, so I'm going to do that today. I'm going to take you apart Kurt, bit by bit until you've been laid bare for me."

Blaine's words hit Kurt hard, and briefly, he considered safe wording out of it after all. What Blaine was talking about was Kurt's greatest failure. He didn't doubt the truth behind his words. Kurt knew that he rarely was open and honest with his feelings, even with the one who held his heart. It was the reason NYADA had rejected him. He had a beautiful voice yes, but he came across as cold and unfeeling. No audience could hope to connect with him on an emotional level according to his examiner, and because of that, he had been denied entry. However, Kurt had never realised that he had done it to the extent that Blaine would find it necessary to literally tie him out and try to forcibly remove the barrier years of life had forced him to erect, and Kurt was not even certain he would succeed. Hell, Kurt did not even know what Blaine hoped to find by the end of this, or how he would accomplish it, but, he decided, if Blaine wanted to try to do what no one had managed, he was welcomed to try.

"Yes sir," he said simply, wondering if he would detect the doubt in his tone.

Blaine didn't, it seemed for he did nothing save give the scarf around his ankle one last, testing tug before releasing it.

"Okay," he said, giving his bound lover a too cheerful grin, "Let's begin."

*

Kurt was in hell. His dom was in a hellish mood and was slowly stroking a fire in Kurt's body, yet was doing nothing to alleviate the burn. He was tormenting him. Starting from Kurt's neck, Blaine was working his way down, peppering small kisses, bites and sucks along the expanse of Kurt's body. Currently, he was on Kurt's left hand, the man moaning as Blaine slid his middle finger into his mouth and sucked on it in a mimic of an activity Kurt would much rather prefer feeling at the moment. And he was not even brief about it. For a good few minutes, Kurt could only watch with lust filled eyes as Blaine bobbed his head up and down the appendage, at times releasing it to tease its tip with his tongue before going back down on it with a moan that had Kurt's hips twitching upwards, in a futile plea.

"B-Blaine!" He gasped out, in frustration when he released the digit and started in on the ring finger. "That's fifteen smacks now Kurt," he said calmly, briefly releasing it, "Blaine's not in right now."

"S-sir," he corrected, "You're killing me here."

His dominant eyed him curiously, letting his eyes rove across Kurt's flushed, heaving chest, up to his face. There his eyes settled for the longest moment, deep and probing. Kurt couldn't take it; after a few seconds he broke the look twisting his head to the side for a reprieve. He heard Blaine make a sound of what he assumed to be disappointment, before a wet warmth settled around his ring finger, and his torment continued.

By the time Blaine had lavished attention on all ten fingers, Kurt was a wave of emotion. He was curious as to where his dominant would move to next, but to satisfy his curiosity, he would have to return his gaze to the front, and he felt mildly ashamed of how desperate he must look at the moment. He could not let Blaine see him in such a state. He didn't even react when Blaine moved upwards to retie his wrist to the bedpost.

Thus, he had no warning for when pain shot through his nipples as Blaine gripped and simultaneously twisted them. He cried out, the sensation going straight to his groin even as his head whipped around to stare at the curly haired man observing him. Blaine had never done that to him before. He whimpered when his nipples were twisted further incrementally. His breath came in pants as he tried to ride it out, meeting his dominant's gaze. Momentarily, Blaine nodded, ever so subtly as if satisfied before he relented. Kurt slumped back onto the mattress, not even realising that he had arched his back.

"Good boy," Blaine praised, and although Kurt wasn't fully sure of what he had done to earn it, he still allowed the feeling to wash over him.

Blaine bent then, laving first, then the other nipple now a darker shade of red that he had so cruelly assaulted. His tongue soothed the pain until the twin buds were only tingling mildly before, rolling one between his fingers he latched onto the other, sucking at it. Kurt moaned, a long, hitching sound. The previous twisting, it seemed, had increased its sensitivity, so that what he previously felt as only being a pleasant feeling was now intensified, each pull of it by his dominant only further tightening the coil swiftly building in his stomach.

By the time Blaine seemed content with the torture he had inflicted on the buds, Kurt was a writhing, continuously moaning and whimpering mess beneath him, his eyes dilated fully, lips parted. He alternately threw his head back or else looked down at his fiancé with an expression of pleasure and awe at what Blaine was evoking from him.

Blaine sat up then, slinging a leg over him so that he was straddling his torso, balancing so that his full weight was not pressed down upon Kurt's gently sculpted abdomen.

Blaine did nothing once again, simply gazing down into Kurt's face, drinking in his expression. Kurt felt his cheeks darken further, and though the whisper of shame rose up within him once again, the desire for more overwhelmed it, and so he continued to meet his dominants eyes to the best of his ability, forcing himself to, for the first time in living memory, allowing the man above him to read the need in his eyes.

"P-please," he whispered in a hoarse voice, noting the way the words caused Blaine's eyes to darken and a sort of growl to work its way from his throat. "Please," he tried again, before the place for words was lost as Blaine descended and roughly and thoroughly plundered his mouth.

*

Kurt knew that he would be insane by the end of all of this. Despite his pleas, Blaine seemed determined to go through with whatever plan he had outlaid in his mind for, despite Kurt's pleas, when his mouth had finally been released, Blaine had continued on his downward part, licking and nipping at Kurt's stomach, dipping and curling his tongue into Kurt's navel in a movement that Kurt should not have loved, but certainly did. His intent had seemed clear, and Kurt had held him breath when Blaine finally reached the V juncture on him...

But the man had bypassed the rigid, leaking cock in front of him and moved on to Kurt's legs. Kurt had sobbed there, a completely broken sound as he realised that the place he wanted him to caress the most undoubtedly was at the end of his agenda.

He endured it the best he could watching as Blaine worked down one leg and then up the other, mimicking his previous actions with Kurt's arms by releasing one then the other leg so that he could give entirely too much attention to each one of Kurt's toes and the spaces in between them. By the time Blaine was on his final two toes, Kurt felt tears welling up in his eyes. It was good, almost too good. He loved the way that Blaine was giving attention to every part of his being. But at the same time, Kurt wanted it to end, wanted the relief of an orgasm that he knew would be the best, hardest one he had ever achieved if how he was feeling was anything to go by. It would not take much he knew. His tip was ejecting fluid now at a steady, constant rate that did nothing to give relieve. He was sensitive, so sensitive that he knew it would not take much to get him off, and a part of him wanted to just shout out his safe word, enough to pause Blaine's actions to tell him that please, he could take no more so please, please, let him come. But, the louder part of himself told him that he could take it, that it was not too much, that Blaine would never take him beyond what he could handle and that if he could just endure, Kurt was certain to relieve his ultimate reward.

Even before Kurt had fully come up with a decision, Blaine had released his foot and retied it, eyeing him now. Kurt looked down at him, tears falling now as he saw the still fully clothed man's expression. Blaine seemed so large to him now, a towering figure of strength and control as he observed him, as if trying to decide if he had wrecked his tied submissive sufficiently.

"P-p-please sir," Kurt begged again, scarcely recognising his own voice. "I need to come. Please let me come."

Blaine crawled up the bed so that he was beside him, lifting his chin up so that he could drink in his expression. Kurt had not a single iota of care in him now to even think of anything besides trying to convince the silent man that he had been good and that he deserved a reward. "Please sir, I'll be good for you. I swear. I'll do whatever it is you want of me, so, please, please, may I come?"

"I like you begging," Blaine said in a deep, husky tone, bending to claim Kurt's trembling lips. "I like seeing you like this, so open and vulnerable."

"Thank you sir," Kurt whimpered out, as Blaine reached down to flick at a nipple.

"I want to see this side of you from now on," Blaine continued, in that same level tone as if Kurt was not tied, panting and crying, even as he looked up at him with pleading, hopeful eyes.

"Yes sir. I will," Kurt pleaded. "I'll be good for you."

"But how do I know you will, hmm?" he inquired, moving on to the next nipple. "You just want release. You'd say anything to make me happy right now. How can I trust your words?"

"I-I'll do it sir," Kurt said with increased desperateness. It had never ever entered his mind that Blaine would consider denying him after such extensive teasing. The thought was enough to send him into a panic, and he leaned up as far as he could, trying and failing to reach Blaine so that he could kiss him, try to convince him.

But the action itself seemed to be enough, because Blaine nodded. Swifter than Kurt could detect, Blaine had moved downwards, and Kurt nearly sobbed in relief when he settled down in a manner that suggested that, finally, Kurt's cock was his target. Kurt yelled out, loud and long when one hand cupped his tightly drawn balls before Blaine bent, his lips hovering over Kurt's head.

"Come whenever you want," Blaine ordered before taking the head into his mouth and suckling hard.

Kurt came before the fifth pull, and blacked out before he was completely done spurting down Blaine's throat.

*

Kurt's body is leaden when finally he drifts back up. He opened his eyes with great effort, only now realising that Blaine was besides him and was running his fingers gently through his drenched hair.

"Blaine?" he managed, looking up at him, blearily.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," Blaine told him, bending to kiss him almost chastely on the forehead. Kurt closed his eyes, taking comfort from the caress. "And it's still sir, sweetheart," Blaine added as he pulled up.

Kurt could only nod, registering that his body felt loose and his mind seemed odd...it was the best way he could describe it. Blaine lifted him up slightly with a hand behind his back before bringing a glass to his lips. Kurt did not even realise how thirsty he was until the first, sweet splash hit his tongue and he drank it all down, the straw the only thing preventing him from gulping it down. The sugar revived him a lot, and within the time it took Blaine to go and dispose of the glass, Kurt came back to himself a lot more.

"Sir?" he asked when Blaine re-entered the room, "why am I still tied up?"

Kurt's heart skipped a beat when a decidedly wicked look crossed his dominant's face.

"Why sweetheart," Blaine said, walking over and looking down at him, "what made you think we're done with this game?"

 


	8. The First Scene (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double post, so ensure you read in order please ^_^. Part 3/3.

Kurt seriously wondered if it was possible to die from too much pleasure. If it wasn't, it seemed as if his dominant was determined to at least try to take him to that extreme. Kurt was still tied out spread-eagled. All that had changed was the fact that he now had two pillows beneath his hips, raising them upwards in an obvious indicator of which part of his anatomy his dom was now interested in tormenting. Blaine had removed his outer shirt by now, but looked no less intimidating in the black vest he was sporting. He was settled comfortably between Kurt's spread legs, and his gaze seemed fixed to the crinkled hole on full display.

Kurt moaned the moment Blaine pressed a finger tip against his opening, tapping it rhythmically.

"Sir," Kurt gasped. His body was immensely sensitive after what he had previously ignored. It was as if it was hot coals that only needed the slightest of exposure to heat to re-light. Already Kurt could feel his breath quickening.

"Shall we between again?" Blaine said, almost rhetorically, as with his non-occupied hand, he flicked open the cap to the bottle of lube, allowing a bit to drizzle around where his finger was still tapping before setting it aside.

It was torturously slow. Blaine seemed not content to simply press in as he would normally. The taps slowed until Blaine's fingertip was pressed more than anything else against his hole, a constant unmoving presence. Eventually Kurt grew impatient and wiggled a bit, but Blaine seemed to sense and move with the motion so that the finger was not displaced. Kurt gave up then and slumped back, just allowing his body to relax and feel the constant pressure. Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, Kurt felt his hole relaxed the slightest and suddenly Blaine's finger was granted entrance, his passage seemingly just pulling the digit right in.

"There's my good boy," Blaine praised, watching as Kurt's muscles rhythmically sucked him in until the first knuckle, before he completed the movement, pushing forward.

Kurt wriggled again, this time in relief of finally being penetrated by something, but his frustration began again for once more, Blaine didn't move, content for the moment it seemed to simply rest his finger in there while he observed his countenance. Why was Blaine so preoccupied with his face, Kurt thought, even as he met his eyes, silently willing him onwards. Kurt knew what Blaine was planning. He would slowly finger him open and then, finally claim him, pounding into him deeply until they both reached their pinnacle. And, the more Kurt thought about it, the more his desire increased as we wanted it, the slow, delicious drag of Blaine's cock into his body and the pleasure that came with it. He licked his lips as he envisioned it, Blaine following the movement with interest. Just as Kurt was about to consider begging again for what he wanted, Blaine smirked, and moved his finger in a come-hither gesture. Kurt's eyes widened and a startled gasp tore past his lips.

Blaine's entrance had been so slow that Kurt had not even realised where the pad of his finger had ended up. Blaine's finger was pressed against his and was now steadily stroking it. And, Kurt thought, in the last moments of sense he would have for a while if the mischievous look on Blaine's face was anything to go by, this was a sensation he was going to feel for a good, long while.

*

Kurt was near incoherent. Once again, he had been reduced to a quivering, pleading, sweaty mass. His hips were writhing futilely as he worked them against the fingers in his ass, hoping that Blaine would have mercy on him, would either let him come and end the game or else just stop it and give him a chance to recover because he was going out of his mind.

Blaine had in no way increased the initial speed he had been working with. Kurt had no idea how long he had laid there, with Blaine simply working that finger in that back and forth motion, sending spark after spark up his spine, moans, groans and gasps escaping from his lips with each new burst of pleasure. Just when Kurt had thought he would peak, Blaine had relented, much to his disappointment, easing the finger back off to the safety of his ring, seeming content to just sit there for a good few minutes as Blaine waited for Kurt to ease back off the edge. Kurt met his eyes, disappointment and passion evident on his face.

"Good boy," Blaine praised again, before pressing forward, putting Kurt through the same torment again.

This time though, when Kurt thought he would careen over with just one magically finger in him, Blaine not only stopped, but also reached out with his other hand to grab at Kurt's balls in a vice grip, physically preventing his orgasm. Kurt had wailed at that, arching his back for long moments before he collapsed back down with a sob.

"We'll have to invest in a cock ring," Blaine stated in a far too level voice. "How many times was that, Kurt?" he asked next?

"W-what?" he gasped out, breathing harsh.

"How many times have I denied you now?"

"T-t-two sir."

"Good," Blaine responded, before pulling back.

Kurt felt more lube being trickled into his crack before Blaine's finger surged back into him, this time with a companion. His torment begun again, this time with two fingers.

*

It wasn't until he was drenched with sweat and near incoherent as he struggled to calm down after yet another denial did Kurt figure out the rules to this little game of Blaine's.

"How many times was that Kurt?" Blaine asked again, after giving him nearly five minutes to recover.

"Th-three," Kurt keened out, feeling as if every nerve in his body was ablaze. "Three sir."

"Good boy!" Blaine praised again. "Let's continue then."

The increased stretch was not as unexpected this time when Blaine slid back in with three fingers. The sob Kurt emitted though, was both one of pleasure and misery as he was pretty much certain of what he would be made to endure for four times now.

"You're doing so good, Kurt," Blaine told him, his fingers still working relentlessly to fuck him. The first time Blaine did only that, whipping his hand back and forth, widening and stretching Kurt's ass as he tormented him, bringing him to that edge before failing to let him spiral off it. The second time, Kurt had to endure all three fingers, pressing and playing with his prostrate again, sometimes gentle flicks, other times a harsh brutal assault that brought him to near-climax faster than any other action. The third time, Blaine did a combination of both, this time leaning over Kurt so that he could attack first one, then the other nipple, biting it in a way that sent shivers of pain through Kurt even as his fingers led to Kurt shamelessly rutting against his hand, promising the world to Blaine even though he knew that he would not be granted what he wanted. The fourth and final time (Kurt hoped) had Blaine claiming his mouth, drinking in every last cry and whimper he made as his fingers moved slowly this time, trickling through his passage exploratory, feeling and stroking every silky inch they could reach before finally, just resting against his prostrate, asserting pressure that was in no way enough.

Blaine broke the kiss then, looking down with satisfaction into Kurt's wide blown eyes, smiling in victory when his fiancé could only whimper helplessly before raising his head to kiss him.

Blaine sunk his tongue into his mouth for several long moments before pulling back.

"Fuck my fingers," Blaine ordered then. "I'm not going to move them. So if you want pleasure, fuck them yourself."

Kurt wailed at that, but promptly his hips started rolling and jerking. Blaine's held his fingers stiff so that with each movement, Kurt effectively massaged his own prostate with Blaine's fingers as a toy. His movements became increasingly jerky and abandoned as the wave rose within him again, and Blaine claimed his lips once again, swallowing every sound he made even as Kurt worked harder, hoping against hope that Blaine would let him come this time, would allow him to douse the fire consuming him.

Once again he was wrong, because, at the last second, Blaine backed away and whipped his hand out, leaving Kurt sobbing and his hole opened and clutching at nothing.

*

As Kurt lay there, sweat cooling on his body as he waited or Blaine to return, Kurt cursed himself since, technically, orgasm denial was something he had chosen to add to their list. Therefore, ironically, in a way, he was responsible for his own torment at the moment. Blaine had left him once he had calmed a bit, giving him a tender kiss to the forehead that belied all that he had put him through so far. He had left him with a murmur of fetching him more juice and Kurt was both grateful or the reprieve as well as for the chance to just have a moment alone with his thoughts.

He was okay, great even despite the hell his dominant was putting him through. He wouldn't change that fact for the world. He felt different...fundamentally different, and, at the moment, he wasn't entirely sure what that difference entailed. It was a good difference though, he could tell that at the very least, so that, when Blaine's hazel gaze met his once again, he could give his dominant a tender smile.

"Hello sweetheart," Blaine whispered to him, once again kissing his forehead. "Lean up for me," he ordered.

Kurt mewled in protest when Blaine took the glass away from him after only half was drunk, but he quieted quickly when he was offered a square of chocolate. The sweetness, like before helped him return a bit more to himself. By the time the break was over, he was observing Blaine with a kind of wide eyed curiosity. The need to come was still there, but for some reason, it was muted now, and very much ignorable. If Blaine decided right now that he wanted nothing more than to untie and cuddle Kurt for a few hours, Kurt knew that he would be amiable at that fact. Except...

Kurt's eyes widened slightly.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Blaine asked in concern, noting his expression.

"I haven't done anything for you," Kurt told him.

Blaine understood what he was saying and chuckled lightly. "You're concern is appreciated sweetheart, but this afternoon is focussed on you, okay?"

"But sir," Kurt protested.

"Ah, ah, ah, little one," Blaine interrupted. "I told you what my goal for this afternoon was, didn't I?"

"Yes sir," Kurt acknowledged. "But..." he paused, taking a shuddering breath, "I...I think you've succeeded," Kurt told him slowly, flexing his fingers in his bonds. “Sir, I don't think I've ever felt this open before. I...I don't know if you can see it, but I feel it. I feel different sir, more open, in a way I've never had before."

"I do see it Kurt," Blaine whispered, sitting beside him and stroking his damp hair away from his face. "It's more than I hoped to see today, and I am so, so proud you've responded so well. Which is why I want to finish our game now and give you the release you most definitely deserve. You've earned this reward, my boy, and I want you to enjoy it. Please don't concern yourself with me."

Kurt closed his eyes briefly, letting the words wash over him. "Sir?"

"Yes, my precious boy?"

"You want me to be more vulnerable...to show you what I want and to let you see the parts of me I'm ashamed of."

"I do," Blaine acknowledged, wondering where he was going with this.

"Then please sir," Kurt said, openly pleading, "give me the chance to? Let me prove that I've learnt the lesson you wanted to teach me."

"And how will you do that?" he inquired, and Kurt was glad to see that he was actually considering it.

"Release me sir," Kurt requested. "Please? I'll be a good boy, I swear I will."

His dominant looked at him for a long moment, before he nodded. "Okay," he agreed, and proceeded to release him.

"Thank you sir," Kurt whispered, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and kissing him.

"What do you have in mind?" Blaine asked once this parted.

"This."

*

Doing this was harder than he had thought it would be, Kurt realised. His dominant was naked and beneath him now at Kurt's request, cock hard and waiting, his hands resting on Kurt's hips but doing nothing except laying there. Kurt swallowed, bracing himself. He had not lied to Blaine - he knew what the man wanted of him, and this was the best way he could see himself doing so while still challenging himself. Blaine had been right - Kurt had never, ever committed himself one hundred percent to him. Kurt had never ever fully dropped his barriers and just let his love see him in his most raw state. He was glad that Blaine had imposed this on him, and, as he had told him, this was the best way to show him.

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, and reminding himself that as much as he wanted to turn around and offer Blaine the sight of his ass working him, this would be even better. Grasping Blaine, and oddly grateful now for the torture he had endured before, which meant that he was still quite relaxed and loose for an invasion, Kurt slowly, but steadily, sunk down on Blaine. Blaine's breath hitched beneath him, and Kurt's head lolled back for a moment. Each inch of Blaine's thick girth sinking into him fully reawakened the ache that he had been feeling before and he moaned, a deep carrying sound as he finally bottomed out, his ass spread around Blaine.

He rocked forward, keeping his eyes open and locked on his fiancé as he swivelled his hips, gyrating on him, feeling him stretch his passage at all angles. Blaine groaned below him at the movement. It was just enough, but not quite enough, and although he had been the one to have his body worked over, Kurt realised that it must have been quite the erotic experience for his dom as well if the way his eyes rapidly darkened and his breath sped up was any indication.

"Sir," Kurt breathed, bracing his hands on Blaine's chest before shallowly rising and falling, allowing just a taste of what was to come.

He sped up quickly though, his body desperate for more. He knew his dom was the same, for his fingers now dug into his sides, encouraging him. Blaine was beautiful beneath him, and, Kurt found that he was not at all bothered about his own appearance right now. He knew that Blaine was appreciative of his countenance right now, the proof that he was indeed enjoying what they were doing. The thought of that caused him to groan out and he rose a bit higher, working a bit faster. Eventually he bent enough so that he could lave at Blaine's neck, a weakness for the man. Blaine bucked up as he expected, and he laughed a little.

"Minx," Blaine breathed, before re-establishing control.

His hips were pulled up the slightest, and Kurt moved with the gesture, letting Blaine arrange him as he saw fit. He found himself forehead to forehead with his dom, their eyes boring into each other as Blaine took over, his hands moving to spread Kurt's cheeks apart so that he could thrust upwards in a punishing pace that Kurt could not have managed. Their cries of pleasure mingled with each other, Kurt's slightly more desperate as all the denials from before seemed to compound themselves, battering him with the combined pleasures.

"Sir," he sobbed out, desperate and a cry of warning.

"I've got you," Blaine told him, his voice deep and gravelly as his hips swivelled, his head now brushing against Kurt’s with every thrust.

Kurt keened out then, and Blaine moved his lips up to claim Kurt's sounds as his own as he continued working hard, thrusting up into him until Kurt could feel it once again, that rising tide of feelings that were battering against the edge of his control. Each thrust, each brush against his precious gland loosened his restraint, and Kurt pulled back enough to beg. "Please sir, please."

"Come for me, precious," Blaine growled, "show me everything."

And with a cry that seemed to be torn from his very core, Kurt did, clenching hard around the still pistoning cock within him so that Blaine could scarcely move. Not that he needed to, the sight, sounds and feels all around him enough to send him spiralling into his own release.

Blaine fucked them both through it as Kurt’s muscles relaxed, gradually slowing his speed. Kurt dropped away from him, his head now buried in the pillow besides him as his body shuddered through the pleasure before just seemingly collapsing as he fell back into the oblivion he had briefly visited before.

Blaine's hips gradually stuttered to a halt until he was just resting inside of the man, feeling the way his muscles still clenched and relaxed around him gently, as if suckling any remnants left from within him. Blaine closed his eyes, too tired to even contemplate moving the dead weight that was Kurt off him. He would do it eventually, but right now, he needed to rest.

*

It was the brush of something rather rough that finally awakened Kurt. Blearily opening his eyes, he was shocked to realise that he was in their bathtub, carefully braced by Blaine who was rubbing a sponge against his chest. "Sir?" he asked, turning to look at him.

"I'm just Blaine now, sweetheart," he was told, "if you want of course."

Kurt blinked sluggishly. Blaine was kneeling besides the tub, wearing a short sleeved shirt now. His hair was still wet, and he smelled faintly of his sandalwood body wash. Kurt harrowed a guess that he had showered before fixing him this bath. The man's words only now registered to him, and Kurt considered how he was feeling. "Sir," he repeated again, and this time, when Blaine looked at him, he could see a hint of steel in his gaze alongside his affection.

"Sweetheart?" he returned simply.

"My sir," Kurt responded, offering him a small smile before closing his eyes and reclining back, content to allow Blaine to cleanse his body.

"Lazy boy," Blaine said with a laugh, before proceeding to do so.

Kurt lolled in the hot water as Blaine took up and scrubbed each leg, his mind drifting in and out as it processed the afternoon. Kurt knew that he would sleep well tonight. Blaine had certainly run him through a wringer, and he had to recover from it. He leaned forward when he was asked to, and sighed contentedly as Blaine worked on his back. He was near purring by the time Blaine poured shampoo into his hand and worked it into Kurt's hair, throwing in a much welcomed scalp massage at the same time.

"I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Blaine returned.

His dominant seemed to sense that he needed more time, and so, once he rinsed all the soap off Kurt's body and the conditioner out of his head, he helped him stand long enough to re-fill the tub with the near scalding temperature Kurt preferred before dropping a bath-bomb into the water and allowing him to sink back down into it.

He kissed his temple before standing. "Our dinner should be here shortly," he told him. "Relax here until I return."

Kurt hummed a response, his eyes closed as he allowed the water to work its magic on him. Blaine closed the door behind him after dimming the lights, giving him complete privacy.

Kurt gradually opened his eyes, raising his hands out of the water to examine the faint pinkness encircling them. They would fade by the morning, but for now Kurt was fascinated by them as well as the small love-bites that littered his chest that would definitely be around for a few days. Kurt loved them all. He groaned softly as he arched his back in a stretch, smiling softly when his ass twinged ever so slightly, a pleasurable soreness settling there. He truly had been well worked over, and despite how much he had endured, Kurt felt stronger for it.

He recalled now telling Blaine that he felt different, and truly he did. There was something about opening oneself fully to another that was thoroughly paradigm shifting, and he knew he could not go back from it. At least with Blaine, Kurt would be a lot more open, he could already feel the change and he was certain Blaine had to. Kurt was not certain that the change was permanent as yet. He was quite the stubborn student, and he could foresee a repetition of the lesson a few times over to ensure that it stuck with him. But, Kurt thought devilishly, as Blaine opened the door and approached him with a large towel, he was already looking forward to it, and for the opportunity to strip Blaine to his very core as he had done to him.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's First Punishment

Kurt whimpered. He was in so much trouble, and entirely because of his own doing. He could not help but fidget restlessly, his body full of nervous energy as he awaited his fate. After all, he reminded himself, this situation was entirely his own doing. He was the one who had asked for this. He had taken the step to ask Blaine to integrate BDSM elements into their relationship. And his boyfriend had agreed to it. Because of that, an action on his part that would probably have earned him nothing more than a mild look of disapproval from Blaine and perhaps a suggestion as to what he should do the next time he found himself in such a situation ended had ended up like this. He was soon to fine himself in an uncomfortable, painful situation.

And, despite his nervousness, Kurt would not have it any other way.

He exhaled deeply at that last thought, consciously trying to relax himself before Blaine came to him. He could do this. He could accept the discipline that he deserved and would emerge on the other side for the better of it.

That thought comforted him, and so, when Blaine finally entered the bedroom and stood before him, a decided cool expression on his face, Kurt was ready to go through with it.

He stood, keeping his eyes lowered as he took a step forward towards his dominant.

"I'm sorry sir," he whispered.

"Are you ready?" Blaine asked, not acknowledging his words. In time Blaine would improve. He would establish a pre-punishment routine that would make things considerably less awkward and stilted for the both of them, so that the deliverance of discipline would not seem like such a rigid routine, but instead maintain the loving edge that Kurt needed so that he did not grow to believe that he was unworthy of affection until after his slate had been wiped clean.

But for now, Kurt could only swallow nervously at the terseness in Blaine's tone before nodding.

Blaine didn't speak further, only moving to claim the spot Kurt had been seated on before patting his lap in invitation. It took a lot more courage than Kurt would have thought for him to close the distance between them and lower himself over the surprisingly hard shelf of Blaine's lap. It didn't feel this unyielding when he sat upon it and cuddled close, he thought, wriggling for long moments until he found the most comfortable position.

"I'm okay," he said then, his voice creaking slightly as the impact of the position hit him. This was really going to happen, he thought, fisting the sheets into his hand.

"Very well."

That was the only signal Blaine gave him beore his palm descended. The palm that was usually so devoted to stroking Kurt's body in loving adoration now smacked down with surprising force, jerking a yelp from Kurt before he clamped his lips shut.

Blaine's hand started a steady rhythm, landing crisp smacks around the perimeter of Kurt's boxer clad behind until his legs started drumming in an effort to deal with the increasingly uncomfortable feeling he was experiencing.

Eventually though, the discomfort plateaued out. Oh, it remained a stinging pain that Kurt found unsettling, but his attention shifted away from the fact that he was being smacked to the reasons behind it. His eyes stung as he realised just how much of a fool he had made of himself, and unnecessarily so. He thought about the fact that Blaine had been annoyed at him, was still annoyed at him. He wondered how and if he could make ammends for what he had done; if Blaine would even give him the chance to.

That dark thought did not remain long with him. Blaine seemed to sense his wandering mind for his smacks increased in speed and intensity, jarring Kurt back to the present situation while also telling him that this very act was all the proof he needed that Blaine would forgive him. He would not be drumming this very difficult lesson into his behind if he did not still care for him and wanted better for him.

"Sir," Kurt gasped out before dissolving into wracking sounds, the pain he felt as well as the sweeping realisation pushing him over the edge he had not even realised he was dangling upon.

Lost to his own overpowering emotions, Kurt did not even feel the gentling of Blaine's hand, nor the fact that his other one, previously still, was now rubbing along the expanse of Kurt's back, both comforting while urging him onwards to continue to expel all that he was feeling. Kurt cried, long and hard until finally, he felt tired and the tears tapered off.

Then, with nothing but the sounds of his own shuddering breath in his ears, and the feel of Blaine's soothing caress as a sharp contrast to the pain of his bottom, Kurt closed his eyes, and went to sleep, certain that, when he work up, all would be forgiven and that he would have a clean slate.


	10. Chapter 10

Being a college graduate brought on a new kind of stress for Kurt. No longer did he have the crutch of the student title to hang on to. He was now an actual adult with even more responsibilities heaped onto his shoulders. Kurt relished it. Graduation had earned him a permanent spot at that, given his years of internship, gave him considerable advantage. He wasn't viewed as an entry-level employee and his compensation package reflected that. Plus, he didn't have much to do in the way of proving himself; he was immediately trusted with responsibilities that were enviable. He relished the chaos and the tension, and it reflected itself more and more in his personal life. Gradually the need to submit to Blaine faded, and even his therapist seemed satisfied with the progress he had made. Now if meals were skipped it was out of genuine forgetfulness or else because he had not had the time and it was something he often rectified as soon as he noticed. He was glad for the progress he had made, especially for the fact that he could no longer recall the last time Blaine had had to give him more than a token spanking or a bit of a scold to correct some problem on his part.

Blaine though, in some ways, was not as fortunate. He had had a breakdown in the middle of his second year, one that had left them both rattled. Kurt could still recall the pure fear he had felt to see Blaine in a drunken, slobbering state on the floor, papers scattered around him. Contrary to what he had expected to find, Kurt had later stared in confusion at the near perfect scores on Blaine's latest slew of assignments. It took him a while to glean the truth, but it finally emerged. Blaine hated his major, and had hoped to do bad enough in it that he could have a 'valid' reason to switch to something else. He'd only gotten into Economics and Management in an effort to please his father, and now with the grades to prove just how much he should be pursuing it with the goal of integrating into his father's company upon graduation, Blaine had lost it. It had been a difficult few weeks, and finally Kurt had had to call out Pamela and Cooper to stage an intervention with his then boyfriend who, for all the neglect he had endured from his father, wanted his approval in any way he could get it. The next semester had found Blaine in a new programme, Psychology and Music, with his Management studies downgraded to a minor. He and his father had had a major falling out when he had found out, but with the wall of support, Blaine had stood firm behind his decision, even if it did risk his father refusing to pay for him further, something that Blaine's grandfather thankfully prevented from happening.

Now however, Blaine's issues seemed to be surfacing more and more. With his grandfather's backing he had opted to immediately enrol in Graduate studies, doing research into Music Therapy, and Kurt supported him wholly in the endeavour, and at times teased him for still having 'homework' to do. Except, more and more, it was growing less amusing for him as he watched Blaine struggle at times. This time around he had more of an idea of what to look out for. Blaine was never one to panic or buckle under his workload. Indeed, it often triggered some sort of adrenaline rush within him. Blaine could look up from a pile of books, papers and his laptop and through his tiredness, give his fiancé a grin that showed that, exhausted or not, he was enjoying what he was doing. Not so much in the last two or so weeks though, Kurt thought, as he ambled through the aisles of a convenience store not too far from their apartment. Blaine was growing more and more stressed and self-disparaging, and Kurt had purposely ensured that their schedules were clear for this weekend so that he could get to the bottom of the problem. Blaine might be using his research and school work as an excuse, but Kurt knew better, knew him better after all this time. If Blaine was in this state, more than likely, Devon Anderson was involved. The name left a bitter taste in Kurt's mouth, and, without his fiancé around to worry about, Kurt allowed himself to scowl.

The only good thing that man had ever done in Kurt's opinion was to give help bring Blaine into the world. Why he couldn't have disappeared soon after that, he didn't know. The man lived to make his younger son's life miserable, mostly because he knew how much Blaine craved his approval. Cooper had blown off the man long before Kurt and Blaine had ever even met, forsaken the man's demands for him to go to college and join the firm in favour of a (now) successful acting career which had left Blaine shouldering the burden of the man's expectations. Blaine had denied it, but, while his phone was charging, and in need of a game to play, Kurt had snagged his fiancé's, only to discover a few late night conversations between father and son. He didn't press Blaine about it; he would have said if he wanted to talk about it, but, with Blaine's behaviour shifting around the same time, it didn't take too much of a guess to recognise the cause. Kurt just hoped that this time around the issue could be addressed and fixed before Blaine tried to drain their liquor cabinet again.

Kurt didn't even notice it at first. Indeed, his actions were rarely conscious. It just happened. He would look at his fiancé and just see an edge of vulnerability to his overall demeanour, realise that he was acting sluggishly or even, dare he say it, petulantly at times until Kurt gave him the lightest of swats to get him going, or else spoke to him in a slightly patronising way that always brought a light flush to his cheeks, and then, every single time, obedience. Kurt supposed that it was because it didn't happen too often. After all, he was usually on the submissive side of their dynamics, but, during their first year post college, when things were just about levelling off for them now that they no longer had the title of students to clutch onto, what had been instinctive for him was now actually based on a slowly growing realisation. In moments of extreme stress, Blaine would surrender it all to him, not in the way Kurt did, when he simply trusted Blaine to take him away, mentally and physically from the troubles of the day for a bit, Blaine surrendered. He would simply look at Kurt with open honest trust and Kurt would realise what was happening, what he needed. Blaine needed him to take control of him body and mind, and Kurt, so far, successfully managed it. It happened infrequently enough that they never really saw a real need to address it, to set formal rules down for it.

But, as Kurt stared at the blanket burrito that his fiancé had tangled himself into, he sort of wish that they had.

It had started when he entered their apartment - soon to be former apartment as the lease was almost up and they could actually afford to upgrade to a better place now - he had been greeted with silence. It was unexpected, and not only because of the hour. It was barely after six, early enough for his fiancé to have decided upon a short nap, but he doubted that that was the case since Blaine would have left music on, even if he were planning to sleep. Blaine thrived in noise, something that Kurt alternately found adorable and annoying, situation dependant.

The absolute silence had Kurt's on edge. Stripping out of his outer layers quickly, Kurt made a beeeline to the bedroom, and then to his boyfriend's side. He was asleep, but that did not reassure Kurt because he could see the dried tear tracks on his face. Blaine had cried himself to sleep, and Kurt had to resist the urge to shake him awake to ask what was wrong. If his boyfriend needed the comfort that sleep could bring, he would not deny him that. Looking around the darkening room, Kurt spotted Blaine's cell-phone on the carpeted floor. He must have fallen asleep with it in his hand, and as he relaxed, it had fallen, Kurt reasoned, as he took it up, and, after pressing a careful kiss to Blaine's slightly damp cheek, he exited the room.

Quickly, he unlocked Blaine's phone - there were no secrets between them, including passwords - trying to find the source of his discomfort. He briefly sent up a hope that he had just gotten overly emotional over some youtube videos of dogs reuniting with owners, or any of those other silly things that tended to make Blaine shed a tear, but, pulling up his call history gave him a darker answer.

A phone call from Devon Anderson that had lasted a little over twenty minutes.

Kurt bit off a curse. Nothing good ever came from a conversation between Blaine and his dad. Kurt bit his lip, hard enough to feel pain as he resisted the urge to dial the man and just start swearing. The man never tended to call for anything good. If he wasn't berating his son for his choice of study (the asshole hadn't even attended his graduation), he was yelling at him for not outgrowing the gay, or, more recently after news of their engagement had gotten out, his choice of a future spouse in Kurt. Because, as the man had spat out during their last conversation, if Blaine had to be gay, couldn't he have at least gotten a 'proper' man?

He resisted the urge to call him though, knowing that it would only further jeopardise the already fragile relationship. Because, despite the fact that the man was twelve levels of douchebag, Blaine still loved him and would be deeply upset if Kurt initiated an argument with him.

That, left him with only one option and, stamping down his irritation, Kurt set about making plans for the version of Blaine he knew he would be dealing with whenever he decided to wake.

He went around the apartment as he waited, straightening things up a bit. Kurt resisted the urge to sigh when he saw that Blaine had haphazardly tossed his shoes in a corner again. They had talked about that more than once lately and he had warned him that continued refusal to adhere to it would earn him punishment. Kurt hoped that he seemed at least repentant when he brought up the matter with him; a few token smacks would be sufficient in that case. Ignoring that for now, Kurt ensured that all his plans were ready for implementation. He doubted that Blaine would be resistant. He knew that what Blaine really needed was the space to just submit and forget what he should or should not do, who he needed or did not need to improve.

For a while he needed to focus his world down onto two entities, himself and fiancé and he needed to put his trust in Kurt that he would be able to guide him through it. It was something Blaine had willingly done for him so many times in the past, and Kurt was fully prepared to do the same for him. The approach though, would differ. Blaine required a more delicate approach, one that meant that Kurt had to force himself to be a lot more patient than he usually would. But for the man whom he loved with all his being, there was nothing he would not do for him.

He had just about decided that he needed to get Blaine up and around before he stared at the walls all hours of the night when he heard the shower start in the bathroom. He breathed a sigh of relief and silently thanked himself for having had the foresight to arrange some things at the foot of their bed for Blaine. He hadn't actually expected for him to immediately go to the items, but it didn't really matter, did it? Kurt flicked off the television, and instead, standing made his way to the kitchen to dole out the food he had prepared and kept warm. By the time that he had everything laid out on the table, Blaine was padding out of the bedroom. Kurt, despite the mood of the situation, barely resisted the urge to coo. Blaine was adorable; there was no other way to describe him.

He was dressed in the slightly too long flannel pyjamas that were reserved for just such a mood. It made him look younger, and even more vulnerable than he probably felt, especially with how his hair, liberated from its gelled confines and damp, curled about in a black mess about his head and face. Blaine had allowed his hair to grow out considerably longer after high school, although getting him to lessen his product use was still a work of progress; he seemed to compensate for the extra length by gelling it even further into submission. But now, Blaine looked all of sixteen or seventeen and much like his younger self, Kurt really just wanted to cuddle him close. It wasn't time for that yet though, he reminded himself. In Blaine's arms was cradled the last thing Kurt had set out for him, the stuffed dog he had gifted him with after his senior ditch day. It would give Blaine a way to occupy his hands as well as remind him that he was loved and cared for.

"Slept well, baby boy?" Kurt asked, his voice gently soothing.

Blaine nodded, shuffling closer, a ghost of a smile on his lips as Kurt opened his arms for him to step in to. "I slept a lot," he murmured into Kurt's shirt. Kurt dropped a kiss down on the top of his head, breathing in the fruity scent of his shampoo before pulling back.

"I made dinner already," he explained, keeping his tone stable, "Mac and cheese with turkey bacon bits, roasted broccoli and double chocolate brownies."

Blaine's eyes widened in surprise, save the broccoli, the rest were his favourite comfort foods, one that Kurt carefully managed after a weekend trip away once a few years ago. He had come home to several empty blue boxes in the bin alongside a suspiciously large baking pan soaking in the sink. They'd become contraband items in the house ever since. "For me?"

"It's homemade," Kurt explained, "so it's actually healthy. Oh don't pout," he added when Blaine's small smile fell, "I made it with three cheeses."

That perked Blaine right up and Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. With a pat to his side, he waved Blaine to the table, wisely giving him the option to serve himself. He snorted as Blaine poured more than half of the serving bowl into his own plate, before shooting Kurt a slightly guilty look. Kurt dismissed it easily; the broccoli was mostly for him after all, and he was more than content with just a few forkfuls of the pasta dish. Dinner was a quiet affair, well save the sounds Blaine made as he shovelled his dinner down. It made Kurt pretty glad that he'd left the brownies in the kitchen. That was a combination meal he really did not want to see BLaine attempt. Blaine's genuine grin after he was done made up for all of Kurt's reservations, and if his lips were slightly oily when he reached over to kiss Kurt's cheek in thanks, it wasn't anything his skin care routine couldn't handle. Piling the dishes in the sink for now, the pair settled in front of the television with brownies (a large slab for Blaine) and bowls of ice-cream.

Kurt didn't press him for information, not right now. Nor did he make any comments about the way Blaine all but curled up into his lap and played idly with his fingers as their movie marathon continued. He let him do as he pleased, showing affection of his own by running his fingers through his hair or trailing them down his back. By the time Kurt finally brought an end to the night's proceedings, Blaine was a warm, boneless mass beside him, one that Kurt enjoyed bundling off to bed with sweet kisses and murmurs of love. Tomorrow would bring another day.

*

In the morning Blaine seemed to be a bit more like himself, although he was still quiet and overly affectionate in a way that told Kurt that he was still in that sensitive, vulnerable stage. Unfortunately though, Kurt knew that he would have to push past that in order to get answers. Last night had been all about relaxing his fiancé and showering him with love and comfort. Today was about getting to the root of what was happening and to see if a solution could be found. Blaine had to talk, something that was almost impossible in this sort of situation. Blaine could be a prickly hedgehog when it came to himself and things affecting him, even with Kurt, and it would take determination on Kurt's part to get through to him, but, as he had already told himself early that morning, it was something that he was prepared to do.

He waited until Blaine had had his fill of pancakes, eggs and sausages, alongside a glass of juice before he initiated anything. Blaine had settled on the living room floor, soft and plush, and seemed content to just sprawl out there for a nap. And, at any other time, he would have let him. Now though, Kurt sat on the couch near him and nudged him gently with his toe until Blaine, almost reluctantly, opened an eye and looked up at him. "We need to talk baby boy," Kurt told him lightly.

Blaine's expression darkens minutely, and he huffed, looking away. "Don't want to," he said shortly.

"You have to," Kurt countered, injecting a hint of sternness into his voice.

Unlike him, that token show of authority was more than enough to put Blaine on alert, and though he pouted, Blaine sat up, crossing his legs in front of him as he looked up at Kurt with a mixture of expectancy and impatience, his expression plainly telling Kurt that he would rather be doing something else right about now. Kurt knew that if he had been the one sporting that expression, he would have already gotten a sharp smack, but for Blaine, a stern look was all that was required for the expression to slip off his face, leaving a slightly surly one in its place that at least didn't reek of muted defiance.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" Kurt asked, giving Blaine the option of initiating the conversation. He didn't' want to out rightly shove him into the discussion.

"Nothing's wrong," he responded, petulantly. "Why do you think something is wrong?"

Kurt just shot him an unamused expression and if anything, Blaine's pout became a bit more pronounced.

"It's nothing serious."

Kurt didn't say anything again, letting his expression speak for him. Blaine huffed loudly, and looked away for a few seconds.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we need to talk about it," he said simply. Silence again, and, feeling his patience wear a bit, Kurt added, "Baby boy, talk to me."

The sternness he added to his tone worked, and Blaine almost reluctantly said, "My dad's been on my case again."

Kurt nodded, not even bothering to pretend to be surprised. "About what this time?"

And there was that reluctance again, although now Kurt could see that it wasn't as much about him being stubborn, but him being reluctant to speak. "Baby boy," he spoke gently, "talk to me."

"You wouldn't like it."

"That's for me to decide," Kurt answered firmly.

Blaine sighed, looking up at him with eyes that were quickly growing sorrowful. "He found out the wedding date. He's not happy we're still together."

So it was about him, Kurt noted. For a while, he had pondered if their latest disagreement had more to do with Blaine's life choices, the fact that he had not immediately entered the work force, the fact that he was pursuing a 'worthless' Master's degree. That would have been bad enough, but the man had chosen to target the one person Blaine held closest. No wonder he was in such a state.

"Blaine..." he breathed out. He slipped off the couch so that he was in front of Blaine and reached out so that he could take a hold of his hands. "What has he said? Tell me."

Blaine sniffled, a sound that was slowly breaking Kurt's heart knowing that he, though inadvertently, had a part to play in his boyfriend's distress. "The usual," he said softly. "If I have to be gay, can't I at least choose someone who's not an embarrassment? Cant' I get a tall, muscular guy with a real career who won't try to make me into a pansy? If I'm with you then I might as well not call myself gay because you're not a real man. I'm wasting my time on you, time I can never get back again. I can't do anything right, but my biggest mistake is you."

The way Blaine was speaking, in an almost formulaic way told Kurt that this indeed was a conversation that had been had many a time in the past few weeks and he had no idea how Blaine had managed to let so much time pass without spilling such a tremendous burden. But then again, Kurt reminded himself, thinking of what had brought them to this very stage, that had been something brewing. He had just gotten to it before Blaine had a full blown meltdown. Blaine was looking up at him, his expression hopeful as if he expected Kurt to miraculously have a solution for his dilemma.

And Kurt, honestly wasn't sure what he should say or do. This really was not a conversation to be had when one of them was not in their ordinary state. So for now, Kurt would work on what he could fix, which, for now, meant letting him know just how loved he was.

Blaine hadn't wanted to have the conversation in the first place, and so, despite his emotions, he didn't at all protest when Kurt ended it. He needed to regroup himself before he could figure out a solution to this with Blaine. It was easy enough to occupy Blaine; all he had to do was put on a Disney movie - Tarzan this time - and Blaine was successfully distracted. Kurt sat at the dining table for a few minutes, nursing a cup of coffee until he saw Blaine start singing along to the first song. Satisfied, he snuck off to the kitchen and took out his phone. It was after ten now; Blaine had slept in a lot longer than usual, and it was late enough that Kurt thought it okay to call Elliot. If he was still asleep or occupied at this hour of the morning then that was just too bad.

Elliot thankfully sounded wide awake when he answered on the second ring. "Good morning lovely. You and the little one finally decided to kneel for me?"

Kurt rolled his eyes; they had known Elliot for nearly five years now and he still hadn't given up. The fact that he and Blaine were starting to wear down due to his persistence was a matter to deal with at another time.

"I need advice El," he said and immediately he could hear Elliot sober up.

"This isn't the good kind of help, is it?" he asked knowingly.

"No," Kurt confirmed, glancing toward the living room. Satisfied that Blaine could not hear him, he broke down the situation quickly. "Blaine's dad has been pressuring him a lot lately, about me. I'm trying to cut this off before he breaks but I'm not sure what to do. Scenes work for me El, hell just Blaine dominating me can help ease my tension, but I know that won't work with Blaine."

"What sort of state is he in?"

"Little?" Kurt said, although his voice took on a questioning lilt. After so much time in the lifestyle, they were well acquainted with the different types of play available. Age play wasn't a kink for either of them, but he couldn't deny that at times, especially like this, Blaine tended to act a lot younger, not to the point where he wanted colouring books, bed times and to be fed, but enough that he needed to be gently led and guided, much like a child. It was a difference, a subtle difference and was why Kurt had no idea how to deal with him. How could he and his fiancé have a rational conversation when Blaine was in an odd state? He tried his best to put that in words to Elliot who listened patiently.

"You don't," he said simply.

"What?"

Elliot's voice was calm as he spoke to them. "You're right Kurt; this isn't a conversation you should be having now. But having a scene may be best."

"You think so?" Kurt replied, not doubtfully, just mildly surprised.

"Yes, baby dom," he said and Kurt found himself flushing. It was a nickname Elliot had ascribed to him not too long after he had found out that he and Blaine were switches, although Blaine often retained the role of dominant. The nickname was reference to the fact that since he took on the leading role so infrequently, he was often unfamiliar or uncertain about what he should do. "You need Blaine out of this headspace, and that means you have to give him a reason to come out of it. We've had this talk before. Blaine's not a true Little; I'd more put him into the Middle category; he just gets very vulnerable at times, which means he's insecure and wants you to take care of him, to remind him and prove to him that you love him irrevocably. That's what you need to do to bring him out of it. Make him feel safe, protected and loved, gently and carefully. Make him feel as if there is nothing more precious to you than him, and he'll come out of it. It might take a while, but you can work him through it. Afterwards you can work on what triggered it."

"That makes so much sense," Kurt admitted.

"I'm the expert here, baby dom," he said with a joking lilt. "If this wasn't so personal a matter I would offer my direct assistance, but this time, I believe this is something the two of you need to work out. Are you feeling more secure now?"

"So much more," Kurt admitted, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thanks Elliot."

"You can thank me with a session next time you two are at the club," he pertly stated.

"We just might," Kurt said, before chuckling at the startled sound Elliot make. "Talk to you later, sir," he finished, just to tease the man a bit more before hanging up.

Situation aside, it felt nice to know that he could render the Elliot Gilbert, owner of Feather, silent every once in a while.

Kurt didn't act until after lunch. Nearly halfway through the movie he had found Blaine slumped over, fast asleep, his hands tucked under his cheek. He had left him after fixing a light throw over on him, because he tended to get chilled easily and Kurt wasn't really in the mood to raise the apartment's temperature. He had woken him up for lunch, and was thankful to see that he was once again a bit more like his usual self. He'd even passed over the offer for juice in favour of some of the iced tea Kurt was sipping on, proof enough of that. Once they had eaten, and the dishes taken care off though, Kurt put his tentative plan into motion, although, in his opinion, it wasn't that much of a plan. Elliot thought that Blaine needed to feel love and protected? Well, Kurt could do that.

Blaine was the more tactile of the two of them anyway; it was why he was so much of a cuddle whore and always insisted upon them holding hands or else wrapping one around Kurt's waist whenever possible in public. Therefore, the best way Kurt could show Blaine how beloved he was was through touches, which he did. Kissing each of Blaine's wrists tenderly, Kurt firmly tied them to the bed's railing. He didn't mind leaving his legs free. With Kurt straddling him, their movements would not put him off his course. He worked with deliberate slowness, careful to ensure that there was not a single inch of Blaine's body that his fingers did not trail under, that his lips did not caress and his tongue lick. He was careful to tease but not torment; true he had no intention of letting Blaine reach his climax until he was good and ready, this was not about torturing him with pleasure. No, the oils he eventually added into the mix turned what had started off as an erotic encounter into a more sensual massage, with Kurt freeing Blaine's frame of all the knots and tenseness within it.

Blaine's eyes had long fallen close, his long dark lashes fanning out against his cheeks. He moaned often, low, pleasurable but still relaxed sounds and he made no move to wriggle impatiently, giving Kurt the freedom to do as he wanted with him. Kurt wasn't certain how much time actually passed before he finally turned the pleasure dial back-up, slipping a slicked finger deep inside of Blaine, easy practice allowing him to find and gently caress that spongy, sensitive spot inside of him until Blaine sighed contentedly. Kurt bestowed that gentle intimate caress on him for a good few minutes before allowing his mouth to slip over Blaine's cock and lavish it with gentle, loving attention. When Blaine finally came, it was not with exploding force. Instead, he undulated gently upwards, the softness of whimpers escaping him as pleasure gently washed over him. When he was done, and Kurt had licked him clean, Kurt gently removed his finger from within him and sat up, allowing his arms to gently caress Blaine's trembling calves. It was a full body shiver, the consequences of a prolonged session that had reached a quite satisfying conclusion. He was surprised, but not too worried when Blaine said "I love you," before dissolving into what Kurt believed to be healing tears. He didn't say a word, just reached up over him so that he could free him from his restraints before cuddling him close, giving him the freedom to just cry it out. It was what Blaine needed, a release from all that he had been allowing to plague him, and Kurt willingly allowed him to do so.

*

That one session was not enough to solve the problem, and Kurt would not delude himself by thinking that. But it at least gave Blaine the strength to actually communicate with him later on in the day. It would be a long, painful conversation at times, and, more often than not, over the next few days, Kurt would have to gently coax Blaine out of his thoughts, or else give him 'reminders' of how much he was cared for. When he came home one day, nearly a week later, to Blaine yelling on the phone, the call concluding with him actually blocking his father's number, and in doing so, removing the man from their lives for a good few years, Kurt only opened his arms, offering comfort. But, the lips that met his did not tremble in any way, and, for the first time since this had all began, Blaine's hands tightened possessively around his waist and his eyes glinted in a way that had Kurt's eyes lowering. They were fine, he thought, as he allowed Blaine to sweep him up into his arms, and though times like this when he needed to take control for Blaine were few and far between, he knew that whenever they arrived, he was capable, and would continue to be capable of, helping his fiancé in the ways he needed it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the zeal to continue this story further. Therefore, this is the final chapter. Sorry about any loose ends this leaves unresolved, but I can't pretend that I'm interested in the story, nor the fandom, that much anymore.


End file.
